Levi: (Commenting on my new back brace to help with lower back and round ligament pain) "Are you gonna wear that all the time?"
Me: "Well, it helps my back feel better."
Levi: "I'm a man. So I don't get back pain. Unless I have a cramp.... Now, preg-i-nit women... (with a shake of his head) THEY get a lot of cramps."
This is pregnancy from a seven year old boy's perspective. I love being "preg-i-nit!"
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Questions
Just a few questions...
Why does pregnancy make food fall on your clothes? I walk around every day with SOMETHING on my shirt. Am I really that much of a pig?
Why can't I ever, EVER get full? I'm hungry ALL the time!!
How is it that I can be so proud of my daughter and how grown up she is, and want her to come back and be a baby again all at the same time??
Is it really true that a new baby can make me love the babies I already have a million times more?
Why do I expect so much of myself? Why all the perfectionism crap?
Where is my nap?
Where do college students' parents think their children are when they are actually sitting near me and my family on the streetcar wearing next to nothing and acting way too desperate? And how will I keep my daughter from engaging in such?
Why are the people at the coffee shop on Oak Street and Carollton so unfriendly? I mean, you can be bohemian and funky and all... and still be friendly to your customers. GOSH!! All I wanted was a steamer.
Will my son remember walking to the streetcar stop and riding downtown with me and his S-Dad, just for fun? Will he remember all the crazy stuff we can see in this city? Will he know how much fun I had showing it to him?
Why can't we watch Napoleon Dynamite every day? I love that movie!! Are you gonna eat your tots?
How come I'm writing these silly questions when there are a zillion other deep thoughts I could be sharing?
Why can't every day be Monday?
Why do I let people who have done enough to hurt me, and yet somehow still feel entitled to treat me as he, I mean they, please continue to hurt me? I think I'm finished with that.
What are we havin' for Thanksgiving? Pecan pie, I hope. I'd really love some pecan pie right now.
Why don't I spend more time being silly? I haven't been nearly silly enough. There goes that perfectionism again...
Who knows...
And I thought I had all the answers... Turns out I mostly just have questions.
Why does pregnancy make food fall on your clothes? I walk around every day with SOMETHING on my shirt. Am I really that much of a pig?
Why can't I ever, EVER get full? I'm hungry ALL the time!!
How is it that I can be so proud of my daughter and how grown up she is, and want her to come back and be a baby again all at the same time??
Is it really true that a new baby can make me love the babies I already have a million times more?
Why do I expect so much of myself? Why all the perfectionism crap?
Where is my nap?
Where do college students' parents think their children are when they are actually sitting near me and my family on the streetcar wearing next to nothing and acting way too desperate? And how will I keep my daughter from engaging in such?
Why are the people at the coffee shop on Oak Street and Carollton so unfriendly? I mean, you can be bohemian and funky and all... and still be friendly to your customers. GOSH!! All I wanted was a steamer.
Will my son remember walking to the streetcar stop and riding downtown with me and his S-Dad, just for fun? Will he remember all the crazy stuff we can see in this city? Will he know how much fun I had showing it to him?
Why can't we watch Napoleon Dynamite every day? I love that movie!! Are you gonna eat your tots?
How come I'm writing these silly questions when there are a zillion other deep thoughts I could be sharing?
Why can't every day be Monday?
Why do I let people who have done enough to hurt me, and yet somehow still feel entitled to treat me as he, I mean they, please continue to hurt me? I think I'm finished with that.
What are we havin' for Thanksgiving? Pecan pie, I hope. I'd really love some pecan pie right now.
Why don't I spend more time being silly? I haven't been nearly silly enough. There goes that perfectionism again...
Who knows...
And I thought I had all the answers... Turns out I mostly just have questions.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Baby CALEB!!!
Here's our baby, Caleb!
His face in 4-D.
Here, he's waving hello to his big brother Levi and his big sister, Mackenzie. They had so much fun seeing him on the screen. You can see the side of his head and his profile, but the hand is kind of covering his mouth.
Sorry for the funny way they look, had to scan the hard copies in, but I wanted to get them up here to celebrate! He's growing so well, his heart looks good, kidneys, brain, everything!!! YAY! He does happen to be breech right now, but that can and hopefully will change before time to make his appearance. Any prayers anyone wants to say to that effect will be welcome. Sorry to brag and run, but just had to show my little joy. More later!!
His face in 4-D.
Here, he's waving hello to his big brother Levi and his big sister, Mackenzie. They had so much fun seeing him on the screen. You can see the side of his head and his profile, but the hand is kind of covering his mouth.
Sorry for the funny way they look, had to scan the hard copies in, but I wanted to get them up here to celebrate! He's growing so well, his heart looks good, kidneys, brain, everything!!! YAY! He does happen to be breech right now, but that can and hopefully will change before time to make his appearance. Any prayers anyone wants to say to that effect will be welcome. Sorry to brag and run, but just had to show my little joy. More later!!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Motherhood Moment
It's been a few days. We've had some sickness at home, but all are on the mend now.
In other news... and this is big....
MACKENZIE MADE HONOR ROLL!!!!!!!!!!!
YESSSSSS!!!!
I cannot tell you how excited I am about this accomplishment. Mackenzie has always worked for B's and C's. She's moved around so much, and been through so many challenges. I knew this school, Faith Lutheran, would be a financial challenge, but I really felt she needed this. I wish I could describe the look on her face. This is her first time on honor roll. She's always been close but missed it. And now... SHE DID IT!!! I'm so happy for her. This is a result of her very hard work, teamed with a teacher who has time to notice Mackenzie, and with a learning environment that is perfect for her. I'm SO pleased. There were some naysayers on this school decision. Well, actually only one. Right now, I'm just so glad I stuck to my guns.
Most days I wonder if I'm ruining my kids. So much has happened out of my control, and I'm not perfect by any stretch of imagination. Since my girl was born, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of her, planned for her, worried about her, hoped for her, and loved her more than life itself. And this... to see the look on her face, hear the happy tone of her voice, to get to tell her: "YOU DID IT, GIRL!" This was one of those moments that makes motherhood a miracle.
In other news... and this is big....
MACKENZIE MADE HONOR ROLL!!!!!!!!!!!
YESSSSSS!!!!
I cannot tell you how excited I am about this accomplishment. Mackenzie has always worked for B's and C's. She's moved around so much, and been through so many challenges. I knew this school, Faith Lutheran, would be a financial challenge, but I really felt she needed this. I wish I could describe the look on her face. This is her first time on honor roll. She's always been close but missed it. And now... SHE DID IT!!! I'm so happy for her. This is a result of her very hard work, teamed with a teacher who has time to notice Mackenzie, and with a learning environment that is perfect for her. I'm SO pleased. There were some naysayers on this school decision. Well, actually only one. Right now, I'm just so glad I stuck to my guns.
Most days I wonder if I'm ruining my kids. So much has happened out of my control, and I'm not perfect by any stretch of imagination. Since my girl was born, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of her, planned for her, worried about her, hoped for her, and loved her more than life itself. And this... to see the look on her face, hear the happy tone of her voice, to get to tell her: "YOU DID IT, GIRL!" This was one of those moments that makes motherhood a miracle.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Hope
Hope. My little sister's middle name. A word I use every day. Something every good Christian girl should never let go of. Hope.
Let's face it. Hope sometimes looks as tattered as Francis Scott Key's Star Spangled Banner must have looked as he gazed on a battle worn flag, torn up but still flying. Those shreds inspired an anthem that we still hold as our country's theme. Hope need not be beautiful or completely intact to still be present in one's life.
Reminds me of something my Granny used to say. She was never one to give up hope, never even one to complain. On her worst days, when asked how she was feeling, she'd say: "I'm kickin' but not high, floppin' but cain't fly." Said in her soft southern accent, sweet as honey, those words often come to my mind when I don't want to keep going.
Over the last few years of my life, I've endured some things I never anticipated. Spent a few semesters in the "school of hard knocks" you might say. I gotta admit, I emerged with my hope torn to shreds. This summer, I spent most days tired of hoping, tired of the "keep on keepin on" thing. Tired of it all, and wondering what in the world it's all for, anyway. That's when I started getting ready for the retreat I was supposed to do about.... of all things... hope.
I was driving around this summer, actually in the car with a person who was making my irritability and fatigue a bit more unbearable, if you know what I mean. I looked up ahead at an elementary school sign. It read: "I can have hope anytime I want." And that, my friends, was the kick-off for my journey into the idea of hope. What is it? How can I keep it alive? What do I do when I'm tired of trying?
In this, of all cities, the words "I can have hope anytime I want" carry a deep meaning. They did in my heart, as well. When I started to dig, to search, to look deeper into hope, here's what I found, in a nutshell:
Hope has absolutely nothing to do with my situation. Nothing to do with my personal happiness or satisfaction. The only things God asks me to hope in are Him, His Word, His unfailing love, my redemption, and my eternal life in heaven. That's it, baby. Nothing on the list about a happy life, health, plenty of money, or people who treat me decently. Wow. Several of the things I hope for right there, and none of them guaranteed to be on God's list of stuff for me. This took some time for me to accept, especially considering that most of my life, I've been trained that when I do good for God, He will do good for me.
Of course He will. Actually, He already has. He's loved me unfailingly, given me His word, His redemption, a home in heaven, and Himself. Here's what I found out: Most of the things I hope for are very temporal in nature. Nothing wrong with that, necessarily. I had just missed altogether the unshakeable hope that is mine in God. Sure, I'll be glad if I'm healthy, glad if our baby is perfect, glad if I ever can exist without financial worries, glad if my children continue to be healthy and happy. But if none of that ever happens, I still have hope, because I've been given things to hope in that are completely unaffected by fickle circumstances.
I found it interesting how much time I spent hoping for things that may or may not happen, instead of hoping in the wonderful things that are mine because of Jesus. So my hope flag still flies. It may be ripped in some places and may have a bullet hole or two, but it flies and always will. It's actually flying a little more proudly now that I've begun to really examine WHAT I'm hoping in and WHO gives me that hope.
Let's face it. Hope sometimes looks as tattered as Francis Scott Key's Star Spangled Banner must have looked as he gazed on a battle worn flag, torn up but still flying. Those shreds inspired an anthem that we still hold as our country's theme. Hope need not be beautiful or completely intact to still be present in one's life.
Reminds me of something my Granny used to say. She was never one to give up hope, never even one to complain. On her worst days, when asked how she was feeling, she'd say: "I'm kickin' but not high, floppin' but cain't fly." Said in her soft southern accent, sweet as honey, those words often come to my mind when I don't want to keep going.
Over the last few years of my life, I've endured some things I never anticipated. Spent a few semesters in the "school of hard knocks" you might say. I gotta admit, I emerged with my hope torn to shreds. This summer, I spent most days tired of hoping, tired of the "keep on keepin on" thing. Tired of it all, and wondering what in the world it's all for, anyway. That's when I started getting ready for the retreat I was supposed to do about.... of all things... hope.
I was driving around this summer, actually in the car with a person who was making my irritability and fatigue a bit more unbearable, if you know what I mean. I looked up ahead at an elementary school sign. It read: "I can have hope anytime I want." And that, my friends, was the kick-off for my journey into the idea of hope. What is it? How can I keep it alive? What do I do when I'm tired of trying?
In this, of all cities, the words "I can have hope anytime I want" carry a deep meaning. They did in my heart, as well. When I started to dig, to search, to look deeper into hope, here's what I found, in a nutshell:
Hope has absolutely nothing to do with my situation. Nothing to do with my personal happiness or satisfaction. The only things God asks me to hope in are Him, His Word, His unfailing love, my redemption, and my eternal life in heaven. That's it, baby. Nothing on the list about a happy life, health, plenty of money, or people who treat me decently. Wow. Several of the things I hope for right there, and none of them guaranteed to be on God's list of stuff for me. This took some time for me to accept, especially considering that most of my life, I've been trained that when I do good for God, He will do good for me.
Of course He will. Actually, He already has. He's loved me unfailingly, given me His word, His redemption, a home in heaven, and Himself. Here's what I found out: Most of the things I hope for are very temporal in nature. Nothing wrong with that, necessarily. I had just missed altogether the unshakeable hope that is mine in God. Sure, I'll be glad if I'm healthy, glad if our baby is perfect, glad if I ever can exist without financial worries, glad if my children continue to be healthy and happy. But if none of that ever happens, I still have hope, because I've been given things to hope in that are completely unaffected by fickle circumstances.
I found it interesting how much time I spent hoping for things that may or may not happen, instead of hoping in the wonderful things that are mine because of Jesus. So my hope flag still flies. It may be ripped in some places and may have a bullet hole or two, but it flies and always will. It's actually flying a little more proudly now that I've begun to really examine WHAT I'm hoping in and WHO gives me that hope.
Monday, October 12, 2009
It's MONDAY! YESSSS!!!
I have not enjoyed Monday to its full and wonderful capacity in quite a while. Being preoccupied with such things as morning sickness, how in the world am I going to pay school tuition, and blood thinner injections, plus more stuff that I needn't go into right this minute, has kept me from throwing myself into Monday the way I am accustomed to doing. I've been slugging by not really throwing myself into anything except the bed... and then the heartburn kicks in and I regret even that action.
But today... for some reason, my body just did it. My brain just finally had enough, I guess, and said GIMME A MONDAY!!! And so my body kicked in gear and we did it! Made the bed. Did some laundry. Got the kids to school on time with a healthy breakfast in the tummies AND lunch in their hands. Made some soccer team negotiations for my daughter. Weasled a much-procrastinated-about and stressed-out-over brake tag for my husbands car out of a guy. Carved a pumpkin. Paid some bills. Eating some lunch and catching up on my blogging, AND I know what we're having for dinner tonight. It was nice to tell my sweetie to put up his feet when he gets home because I have dinner handled.
Kickin' butt and takin' names! That's what Monday is all about!!
Seriously, perhaps it is the combination of several events of late, some serious examination of the hope I have in God, an unwelcome nonetheless exciting fresh start that has happened in my life... Last evening marked a special kick off of sorts which I may or may not write about later. For now, my thought is that maybe that little re-start has sort of set things to right in my brain and my body.
It also helps to be past morning sickness, to have adjusted to giving my own injections, and to know that my baby is healthy inside me.
Plus the smell of cinnamon in the air and the fact that it is, indeed, October. Who knows....
But Monday is here and I'm enjoying every manic minute of it!!!
I have not enjoyed Monday to its full and wonderful capacity in quite a while. Being preoccupied with such things as morning sickness, how in the world am I going to pay school tuition, and blood thinner injections, plus more stuff that I needn't go into right this minute, has kept me from throwing myself into Monday the way I am accustomed to doing. I've been slugging by not really throwing myself into anything except the bed... and then the heartburn kicks in and I regret even that action.
But today... for some reason, my body just did it. My brain just finally had enough, I guess, and said GIMME A MONDAY!!! And so my body kicked in gear and we did it! Made the bed. Did some laundry. Got the kids to school on time with a healthy breakfast in the tummies AND lunch in their hands. Made some soccer team negotiations for my daughter. Weasled a much-procrastinated-about and stressed-out-over brake tag for my husbands car out of a guy. Carved a pumpkin. Paid some bills. Eating some lunch and catching up on my blogging, AND I know what we're having for dinner tonight. It was nice to tell my sweetie to put up his feet when he gets home because I have dinner handled.
Kickin' butt and takin' names! That's what Monday is all about!!
Seriously, perhaps it is the combination of several events of late, some serious examination of the hope I have in God, an unwelcome nonetheless exciting fresh start that has happened in my life... Last evening marked a special kick off of sorts which I may or may not write about later. For now, my thought is that maybe that little re-start has sort of set things to right in my brain and my body.
It also helps to be past morning sickness, to have adjusted to giving my own injections, and to know that my baby is healthy inside me.
Plus the smell of cinnamon in the air and the fact that it is, indeed, October. Who knows....
But Monday is here and I'm enjoying every manic minute of it!!!
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Some good stuff
Had a fabulous weekend with Glendale Presbyterian Church!! LOVE THOSE PEOPLE!!!! They are beyond incredible. The food, the friendships, the fun, the food!!! It's like going home. Thanks, GPC!
We talked a lot about hope. Many more thoughts to come on that subject. For now, this is a quick check in to say I'm still alive and home and to give you a list of some things I appreciate immensely:
MY HUSBAND!!! He is KILLER!
My CHILDREN!!! They are the two, wait three counting my stepson, no make that four... can't forget baby Caleb... oh yeah and my step daughter in law rocks also, can't leave her out... So they are the five most wonderful people on the planet. I love them. Today I'd like to especially brag on Mackenzie and Levi because they have been through stuff no kid should have to face and they still meet every day with a smile and a heart full of love. They are my heroes!
Oatmeal Creme Pies. With an entire quart of very cold skim milk. Yes, all by myself.
And God. He totally CAN, even when I can't. I need that.
We talked a lot about hope. Many more thoughts to come on that subject. For now, this is a quick check in to say I'm still alive and home and to give you a list of some things I appreciate immensely:
MY HUSBAND!!! He is KILLER!
My CHILDREN!!! They are the two, wait three counting my stepson, no make that four... can't forget baby Caleb... oh yeah and my step daughter in law rocks also, can't leave her out... So they are the five most wonderful people on the planet. I love them. Today I'd like to especially brag on Mackenzie and Levi because they have been through stuff no kid should have to face and they still meet every day with a smile and a heart full of love. They are my heroes!
Oatmeal Creme Pies. With an entire quart of very cold skim milk. Yes, all by myself.
And God. He totally CAN, even when I can't. I need that.
Friday, September 25, 2009
A Day in the Life
I'm getting ready for a conference about hope. I've been doing some of the most challenging thinking I've ever done about that subject. At risk of giving away the goods, I'll save the rest for post-conference. However, just for fun, anyone who'd like to respond and tell me what hope means to you, I'd be pleased as punch. Just comment, and if you don't wish me to publish your words, say so.
That done, I've been thinking that I haven't said a whole lot on my blog about my work. I've meant to a thousand times because I really love my work, and find daily something challenging and enriching about it. I often think, "I gotta blog about this." and then life takes over and the moment of profundity gets swept away. I hate that.
I work in a business that can "take a lot out of you" if you do your job well. Assisted Living is a beautiful concept. Every day I come to work and bring joy to someone's life. Every day, I help someone, encourage someone, bring someone something they need. Practically, my job as activities coordinator means that I also provide entertainment, challenge (mental and physical) and general times of enjoyment. "Chancellor of Fun" I like to think. I suppose I could go to work each day and mechanically do the steps of my job. I may even accomplish nearly the same results. However, I just can't keep from involving my heart. There are 63 residents at the assisted living home where I work. Sixty three people to love, care for, entertain, serve, be concerned about, and generally allow into my business. Part of my job means sharing my life with them, and getting involved in theirs.
Right now for me, this means at least ten conversations a day about the size and general shape of my belly, how my children are doing in school, how much salt I ate today, and whether or not I'm getting enough rest. Not to mention at least ten more conversations about my marriage, since my husband also works here as the chef. When am I going to fatten him up? Is he working tomorrow and if so will he make me scones for breakfast?
Doing my job well means being available to hug somebody when I'd rather not be touched. It means listening to a story I've heard no less than fifty times before, but listening like it's the first time. It means showing respect to an elder who may sometimes act like a child. It means lending dignity to undignified aging processes. It means letting myself really love a lot of other people, whether or not they love me in return. All heavy and emotionally complicated situations.
Not that the job is without reward. The rewards are also rich and abundant. For one thing, our baby will be born to a houseful of ma maws and pa pas who have been eagerly expecting him. My children already get covered with hugs and giggles when they are here. Plus, smiles look so beautiful on wrinkled faces...especially knowing I helped put them there. Laughter is abundant and wisdom oozes from every nook and cranny. Reminders of what is truly important in life are everywhere, every day.
What strikes me over and over again is that I only took a job in assisted living because I had been left alone with my children and was about to starve. I never expected to get something absolutely perfect for me. SOmething I would enjoy every moment of.
Not every moment is easy, but every one is worth it. So hopefully for a while I'll be blogging on the every day stuff, the every day gorgeousness that is my life. The beautiful, challenging, and noteworthy moments that I've too often let pass me by.
That done, I've been thinking that I haven't said a whole lot on my blog about my work. I've meant to a thousand times because I really love my work, and find daily something challenging and enriching about it. I often think, "I gotta blog about this." and then life takes over and the moment of profundity gets swept away. I hate that.
I work in a business that can "take a lot out of you" if you do your job well. Assisted Living is a beautiful concept. Every day I come to work and bring joy to someone's life. Every day, I help someone, encourage someone, bring someone something they need. Practically, my job as activities coordinator means that I also provide entertainment, challenge (mental and physical) and general times of enjoyment. "Chancellor of Fun" I like to think. I suppose I could go to work each day and mechanically do the steps of my job. I may even accomplish nearly the same results. However, I just can't keep from involving my heart. There are 63 residents at the assisted living home where I work. Sixty three people to love, care for, entertain, serve, be concerned about, and generally allow into my business. Part of my job means sharing my life with them, and getting involved in theirs.
Right now for me, this means at least ten conversations a day about the size and general shape of my belly, how my children are doing in school, how much salt I ate today, and whether or not I'm getting enough rest. Not to mention at least ten more conversations about my marriage, since my husband also works here as the chef. When am I going to fatten him up? Is he working tomorrow and if so will he make me scones for breakfast?
Doing my job well means being available to hug somebody when I'd rather not be touched. It means listening to a story I've heard no less than fifty times before, but listening like it's the first time. It means showing respect to an elder who may sometimes act like a child. It means lending dignity to undignified aging processes. It means letting myself really love a lot of other people, whether or not they love me in return. All heavy and emotionally complicated situations.
Not that the job is without reward. The rewards are also rich and abundant. For one thing, our baby will be born to a houseful of ma maws and pa pas who have been eagerly expecting him. My children already get covered with hugs and giggles when they are here. Plus, smiles look so beautiful on wrinkled faces...especially knowing I helped put them there. Laughter is abundant and wisdom oozes from every nook and cranny. Reminders of what is truly important in life are everywhere, every day.
What strikes me over and over again is that I only took a job in assisted living because I had been left alone with my children and was about to starve. I never expected to get something absolutely perfect for me. SOmething I would enjoy every moment of.
Not every moment is easy, but every one is worth it. So hopefully for a while I'll be blogging on the every day stuff, the every day gorgeousness that is my life. The beautiful, challenging, and noteworthy moments that I've too often let pass me by.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Consolation
In the middle of life's whirlwind of late, and all the stress, hormones, tears, worries, and emotions that are part of this pregnancy, I have a consolation.
Psalm 139 says "You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
Know what I was thinkin? That means God Himself, the same One who made the mountains is actually, physically, with His own hands, piecing someone together inside my physical body right now.
There are no words to tell you how much I needed that knowledge. Sometimes in life's complications... you know, the ones that don't fit inside the guidelines of what I dreamed for myself and my life, it's hard to know that God is there. It's hard not to be seriously in doubt. It's interesting in the midst of some of my most spiritually barren times, God has chosen to actually physically touch me. Perhaps I have no feelings that prove His work in my life, but I see the physical evidence of it literally swelling inside me.
Now that I consider it, all three of my pregnancies have come at spiritually difficult times. How well He knows me... If my heart refuses to or simply hasn't the strength to hear, He just takes over my body.
This knowledge is precious to me. Too wonderful to express.
Psalm 139 says "You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
Know what I was thinkin? That means God Himself, the same One who made the mountains is actually, physically, with His own hands, piecing someone together inside my physical body right now.
There are no words to tell you how much I needed that knowledge. Sometimes in life's complications... you know, the ones that don't fit inside the guidelines of what I dreamed for myself and my life, it's hard to know that God is there. It's hard not to be seriously in doubt. It's interesting in the midst of some of my most spiritually barren times, God has chosen to actually physically touch me. Perhaps I have no feelings that prove His work in my life, but I see the physical evidence of it literally swelling inside me.
Now that I consider it, all three of my pregnancies have come at spiritually difficult times. How well He knows me... If my heart refuses to or simply hasn't the strength to hear, He just takes over my body.
This knowledge is precious to me. Too wonderful to express.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Nothin' Pretty
Hold onto your hat. This ain't nothin pretty.
Life's been... well, a little on the overwhelming side lately. Frankly, I'm fighting cynicism and outright irritability like you wouldn't believe.
I got into a confrontation with my ex husband and his new wife. Ewww... It was miserable for a thousand reasons. I wasn't nice. Didn't feel like being nice and didn't care that I didn't feel like being nice. Still don't. I was surprised at the fury that is in me. Mama Bear had her claws out if you know what I mean. Divorce of any kind is disgusting, and mine is/was among the most gross of situations. I still experience nausea when considering what happened to my kids and me. Most people who know about it do.
It's strange because I have a beautiful life, a gorgeous new husband, and my kids have a new big brother and are about to get a new baby brother or sister. They're doing great in school, happy in our church, growing every day. We're happy. I hate how past wounds sometimes show themselves and seem to be as infected as if they just happened. Sometimes I feel like I'll be injured forever over this. Some people say that a broken bone still aches years and years later in bad weather or something. Seems like emotional wounds are much the same way, still flaring up so to speak at one time or another.
Had a great visit with my family this weekend, and got some much needed TLC from them. My sister's church showed the movie "Fireproof" and the pastor preached his beginning sermon of a study they are doing based on the Love Dare. (For those of you not in the mainstream church, it's a marriage enrichment thing.) The pastor used the passage I Corinthians 13, of course, since he was talking about love. Now, I was doing no small amount of teeth gritting having already sat through the scripted "Isn't it GREAT to be in the house of the Lord today?" and "Lord, bless us and be with us." and the misuse of Malachi 3:10, and the pastor's cheesy pasted-on grin. Bleah. I missed my church and the realness that is there. Thank God my pastors have the guts to frown if they're sad or tell me if they're mad. Or at least not to take glamour shots of themselves. I love you, Jim and Greg... Crocs and ALL!!!
Anyway, I was gritting my teeth, and fighting the nasty, cynical thoughts that raced through my mind as he read the familiar "Love is patient, love is kind, love believes the best, love endures all things..." I thought to myself: "How can that be? I tried so hard to "believe the best" to give another person the benefit of every doubt. I trusted again and again and still I was lied to, humiliated, decieved, and ultimately abandoned. What's the point? And how will my new marriage have any hope if this kind of crap is going on in my mind? Why did God let this happen to me?" But then... to my shock, pasty-grin man had something smart to say. He said everywhere you see the word love, you can insert the name Jesus. Jesus is patient, Jesus is kind, Jesus believes the best, Jesus never fails. This immediately passed my theological who-ha filter, since I know the scripture says God IS love. And so we can safely substitue His name there.
I began to think. Perhaps this passage, while it certainly is the standard we should strive for, has been under the wrong focus for me. The failure of other people to love me, or me to love them isn't what I Cor. 13 is all about. It's about Jesus and how He behaves toward humans, including me. Perhaps it isn't saying: "This is how you love. Now TRY HARDER!" Perhaps it's more like: "This is how God loves you. So, having been loved like this, you can deal with the failure of other people to love you and your failure to love them." Hmmm... So maybe it's more like God saying "So what if he lied to you and utterly failed you. I love you and will never fail you and never lie to you."
I don't know why God let me marry a man who would hurt me in such a way. I was trying with all my might at the time to do what I thought God wanted me to do. I don't know why He let me get ripped apart like that. I do know that the stark contrast between the way I was loved in my first marriage and the way God loves me practically screams to me. I have to wonder if I would have ever glimpsed the magnitude of the strength of God's love if I hadn't experienced the failure of human love.
Mere guesses at a question that will probably never be answered and really doesn't make sense anyway...
In all my frustrated cynicism, my irritability, meanness, and sorrow.... in all my happy moments, my blissful passion with my new husband and my joy at the smiles of my children... In ALL those moments I'm loved. Hmmm....
Maybe this was somethin pretty after all.
Life's been... well, a little on the overwhelming side lately. Frankly, I'm fighting cynicism and outright irritability like you wouldn't believe.
I got into a confrontation with my ex husband and his new wife. Ewww... It was miserable for a thousand reasons. I wasn't nice. Didn't feel like being nice and didn't care that I didn't feel like being nice. Still don't. I was surprised at the fury that is in me. Mama Bear had her claws out if you know what I mean. Divorce of any kind is disgusting, and mine is/was among the most gross of situations. I still experience nausea when considering what happened to my kids and me. Most people who know about it do.
It's strange because I have a beautiful life, a gorgeous new husband, and my kids have a new big brother and are about to get a new baby brother or sister. They're doing great in school, happy in our church, growing every day. We're happy. I hate how past wounds sometimes show themselves and seem to be as infected as if they just happened. Sometimes I feel like I'll be injured forever over this. Some people say that a broken bone still aches years and years later in bad weather or something. Seems like emotional wounds are much the same way, still flaring up so to speak at one time or another.
Had a great visit with my family this weekend, and got some much needed TLC from them. My sister's church showed the movie "Fireproof" and the pastor preached his beginning sermon of a study they are doing based on the Love Dare. (For those of you not in the mainstream church, it's a marriage enrichment thing.) The pastor used the passage I Corinthians 13, of course, since he was talking about love. Now, I was doing no small amount of teeth gritting having already sat through the scripted "Isn't it GREAT to be in the house of the Lord today?" and "Lord, bless us and be with us." and the misuse of Malachi 3:10, and the pastor's cheesy pasted-on grin. Bleah. I missed my church and the realness that is there. Thank God my pastors have the guts to frown if they're sad or tell me if they're mad. Or at least not to take glamour shots of themselves. I love you, Jim and Greg... Crocs and ALL!!!
Anyway, I was gritting my teeth, and fighting the nasty, cynical thoughts that raced through my mind as he read the familiar "Love is patient, love is kind, love believes the best, love endures all things..." I thought to myself: "How can that be? I tried so hard to "believe the best" to give another person the benefit of every doubt. I trusted again and again and still I was lied to, humiliated, decieved, and ultimately abandoned. What's the point? And how will my new marriage have any hope if this kind of crap is going on in my mind? Why did God let this happen to me?" But then... to my shock, pasty-grin man had something smart to say. He said everywhere you see the word love, you can insert the name Jesus. Jesus is patient, Jesus is kind, Jesus believes the best, Jesus never fails. This immediately passed my theological who-ha filter, since I know the scripture says God IS love. And so we can safely substitue His name there.
I began to think. Perhaps this passage, while it certainly is the standard we should strive for, has been under the wrong focus for me. The failure of other people to love me, or me to love them isn't what I Cor. 13 is all about. It's about Jesus and how He behaves toward humans, including me. Perhaps it isn't saying: "This is how you love. Now TRY HARDER!" Perhaps it's more like: "This is how God loves you. So, having been loved like this, you can deal with the failure of other people to love you and your failure to love them." Hmmm... So maybe it's more like God saying "So what if he lied to you and utterly failed you. I love you and will never fail you and never lie to you."
I don't know why God let me marry a man who would hurt me in such a way. I was trying with all my might at the time to do what I thought God wanted me to do. I don't know why He let me get ripped apart like that. I do know that the stark contrast between the way I was loved in my first marriage and the way God loves me practically screams to me. I have to wonder if I would have ever glimpsed the magnitude of the strength of God's love if I hadn't experienced the failure of human love.
Mere guesses at a question that will probably never be answered and really doesn't make sense anyway...
In all my frustrated cynicism, my irritability, meanness, and sorrow.... in all my happy moments, my blissful passion with my new husband and my joy at the smiles of my children... In ALL those moments I'm loved. Hmmm....
Maybe this was somethin pretty after all.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
People, Pigs, and Psalms
Kids are doing great in school. I promise to post a pic soon, they look so fresh and sweet in their little uniforms with their backpacks and lunchboxes. Too cute!
We have an ultrasound today. I'm getting spoiled with all these glimpses of our little one. Hopefully all will be well. Tomorrow makes one week on heparin shots three times each day. I know it sounds funny, but I'm so proud! I was once a queasy girl with quite a weak stomach. I never imagined I'd be able to draw up a syringe and shoot myself in the belly, but I do it three times every day! Takin' it like a woman!! It's amazing what one is capable of when one has to be. Not that I'm always brave...I'm trying not to be a wimp about the whole thing, but I will admit to you that the bruises all over my tummy and the idea of sticking a needle in there one more time sometimes makes me want to cry. Don't tell anybody, ok?
I think it's mostly the fact that I read too much. Sometimes knowledge is power and sometimes knowledge is utterly detrimental! For example, when I got pregnant I read that pulmonary embolism is the leading cause of death in pregnancy. Just the thing for which I am most at risk!! Yikes! I also read that heparin is made from the intestinal mucosa of pigs. Disgusting. Imagine my thoughts as I squirt that through the needle into my tummy three times each day. Perhaps that explains the bacon craving... :)
Isn't it strange, though, how an experience can be much more daunting if you know what's going on? Sometimes it's nice to be blissfully unaware. Makes me think of my children, and intensely hope that they have no idea the severity of what they have endured over the last 3 years. Makes me think of my parents and be grateful for what they shielded me from. Makes me think of God, and wonder how many valleys I've been in contained the shadow of death, I just didn't know.
That brings me to an interesting thought. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will FEAR NO EVIL, for thou art with me." How striking that the evil is present, even dominant it seems in that valley of the shadow, yet it is not to be feared. Doesn't say it isn't to be seen or heard or known, just not feared. So whether I see and know the danger I'm in, or whether I have no clue about the peril around me, I have no need to fear because He is with me. Not an easy thought to absorb, but one I needed today.
We have an ultrasound today. I'm getting spoiled with all these glimpses of our little one. Hopefully all will be well. Tomorrow makes one week on heparin shots three times each day. I know it sounds funny, but I'm so proud! I was once a queasy girl with quite a weak stomach. I never imagined I'd be able to draw up a syringe and shoot myself in the belly, but I do it three times every day! Takin' it like a woman!! It's amazing what one is capable of when one has to be. Not that I'm always brave...I'm trying not to be a wimp about the whole thing, but I will admit to you that the bruises all over my tummy and the idea of sticking a needle in there one more time sometimes makes me want to cry. Don't tell anybody, ok?
I think it's mostly the fact that I read too much. Sometimes knowledge is power and sometimes knowledge is utterly detrimental! For example, when I got pregnant I read that pulmonary embolism is the leading cause of death in pregnancy. Just the thing for which I am most at risk!! Yikes! I also read that heparin is made from the intestinal mucosa of pigs. Disgusting. Imagine my thoughts as I squirt that through the needle into my tummy three times each day. Perhaps that explains the bacon craving... :)
Isn't it strange, though, how an experience can be much more daunting if you know what's going on? Sometimes it's nice to be blissfully unaware. Makes me think of my children, and intensely hope that they have no idea the severity of what they have endured over the last 3 years. Makes me think of my parents and be grateful for what they shielded me from. Makes me think of God, and wonder how many valleys I've been in contained the shadow of death, I just didn't know.
That brings me to an interesting thought. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will FEAR NO EVIL, for thou art with me." How striking that the evil is present, even dominant it seems in that valley of the shadow, yet it is not to be feared. Doesn't say it isn't to be seen or heard or known, just not feared. So whether I see and know the danger I'm in, or whether I have no clue about the peril around me, I have no need to fear because He is with me. Not an easy thought to absorb, but one I needed today.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Juggling
Today is Mackenzie and Levi's first day of school! I'm so excited for them. They are going to Faith Lutheran School, which I just adore. It's a loving place where they will hear truth and I'm so happy to have found it. They've been through so much, I just couldn't bear for them to be lost in a crowd. Faith is, I hope, a kind of loving little cocoon for them. I know I can't always keep them in a cocoon. I've had to face the harsh reality that there are many things I can't protect them from, but this one thing I can do, so I'm doing it. The sacrifice is well worth it.
Life is bringing it's share of stress to me. I need some medicine I can't afford. Hopefully a good solution has come along, a less expensive medicine that involves a little more risk, but will be better than nothing. I'll find out today about that. It's scary feeling like a time bomb, like a clot could come along any time and that could be it for me. It also has a way of keeping me on my toes so to speak. Thinking about serious things like that makes me want to be sure that my husband knows how much I love him, my kids know how great they are, and so on.
That brings me to another topic. Stepfamilies are hard things to build! Not at all like having years on your own before children are born. We had a month or so on our own and then two kids joined us, with their own habits and personalities to add to the mix. Add to that a new, risky pregnancy surprise and we end up with an "us" that's easy to lose among all the "dailies." I'm finding that even though I already knew that marriage takes work and effort, never just "falling into place" on its own, a second marriage with step family is even more of a fragile existence. It takes even more effort, more attention, more purposeful love than I ever imagined. I mean, going on a date with a person is one thing. Living with that person all the time, while trying to parent children that haven't always been a part of this particular household, plus work, plus groceries and errands and a new baby and doctor visits and shots and juggling bills and viruses that go around the house and feeding the dog and keeping up the laundry... well that's a whole other thing entirely!! Life tends to take over!! One has to be vigilant if she wants her relationship to be alive and healthy and fun and vibrant. It ain't for the faint of heart, I tell ya!
Ah well... Faint of Heart is something I cannot afford to be, and when I truly think about it, don't need to be if I trust God like I say I do...
Life is bringing it's share of stress to me. I need some medicine I can't afford. Hopefully a good solution has come along, a less expensive medicine that involves a little more risk, but will be better than nothing. I'll find out today about that. It's scary feeling like a time bomb, like a clot could come along any time and that could be it for me. It also has a way of keeping me on my toes so to speak. Thinking about serious things like that makes me want to be sure that my husband knows how much I love him, my kids know how great they are, and so on.
That brings me to another topic. Stepfamilies are hard things to build! Not at all like having years on your own before children are born. We had a month or so on our own and then two kids joined us, with their own habits and personalities to add to the mix. Add to that a new, risky pregnancy surprise and we end up with an "us" that's easy to lose among all the "dailies." I'm finding that even though I already knew that marriage takes work and effort, never just "falling into place" on its own, a second marriage with step family is even more of a fragile existence. It takes even more effort, more attention, more purposeful love than I ever imagined. I mean, going on a date with a person is one thing. Living with that person all the time, while trying to parent children that haven't always been a part of this particular household, plus work, plus groceries and errands and a new baby and doctor visits and shots and juggling bills and viruses that go around the house and feeding the dog and keeping up the laundry... well that's a whole other thing entirely!! Life tends to take over!! One has to be vigilant if she wants her relationship to be alive and healthy and fun and vibrant. It ain't for the faint of heart, I tell ya!
Ah well... Faint of Heart is something I cannot afford to be, and when I truly think about it, don't need to be if I trust God like I say I do...
Friday, July 24, 2009
Wanna See My Uterus?
Well, mostly my uterus. But the important part is that little peanut in there. That's our baby! And the pink in the middle is the heartbeat. I had to show this one because the doppler image on the screen came out looking so much like an actual heart shape. Too cool, we thought. Dwayne got to see this one with me which was awesome since it's been 21 years since his son was born. Having a baby is a whole new ball game now, so it kind of feels like a first.
This week we had a little scare. Just a few days after I published our news, I had some spotting. Frightening indeed. I found that even though I just accepted this news, I certainly wasn't ready for this adventure to end that abruptly. I held my breath through another ultrasound until I saw that little heartbeat again, going as strong as ever. Thanks be to God.
I want my faith to be such that I can accept whatever is brought my way, be it blessing or loss. God's goodness certainly doesn't come and go with my circumstances. A hard place to be, however, when you anticipate a painful loss. I mean what do you say? Personally I've reached a point with God that I don't bother with platitudes. He already knows it all. So I get right to the point and tell Him what I want. Then I pray to be ready if what I want isn't what He has for me. "Thy will be done" is easy to say, not so easy to mean. For example, I came right out with "Please don't let this baby die. Please don't let me see an ultrasound with no heartbeat." I found it an interesting challenge of my faith over the last few days, to be in a place of knowing God may or may not take this child, and trying hard to keep myself honest, eventually having to admit that Him taking this baby was NOT ok with me. I guess we are all in that place always, whether we feel it or not. Loss comes often without warning, without giving us opportunity to pray for what we want to see happen. Believing that God is omnipotent places me at His mercy at all times. He can give or take away at any moment. I suppose He sometimes brings along moments like the ones I had this week to enable us to interact with Him. Little wake up calls, so to speak, or moments when He takes our faces in His hands and forces us to look at the condition of our belief in Him.
I'm grateful that my scary little blessing is alive and well in there, turning flips and growing into someone wonderful. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to walk with God, be it a smooth or rough road. What is abundantly clear to me right now is that He is way more capable of holding me than I am of holding onto Him.
This week we had a little scare. Just a few days after I published our news, I had some spotting. Frightening indeed. I found that even though I just accepted this news, I certainly wasn't ready for this adventure to end that abruptly. I held my breath through another ultrasound until I saw that little heartbeat again, going as strong as ever. Thanks be to God.
I want my faith to be such that I can accept whatever is brought my way, be it blessing or loss. God's goodness certainly doesn't come and go with my circumstances. A hard place to be, however, when you anticipate a painful loss. I mean what do you say? Personally I've reached a point with God that I don't bother with platitudes. He already knows it all. So I get right to the point and tell Him what I want. Then I pray to be ready if what I want isn't what He has for me. "Thy will be done" is easy to say, not so easy to mean. For example, I came right out with "Please don't let this baby die. Please don't let me see an ultrasound with no heartbeat." I found it an interesting challenge of my faith over the last few days, to be in a place of knowing God may or may not take this child, and trying hard to keep myself honest, eventually having to admit that Him taking this baby was NOT ok with me. I guess we are all in that place always, whether we feel it or not. Loss comes often without warning, without giving us opportunity to pray for what we want to see happen. Believing that God is omnipotent places me at His mercy at all times. He can give or take away at any moment. I suppose He sometimes brings along moments like the ones I had this week to enable us to interact with Him. Little wake up calls, so to speak, or moments when He takes our faces in His hands and forces us to look at the condition of our belief in Him.
I'm grateful that my scary little blessing is alive and well in there, turning flips and growing into someone wonderful. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to walk with God, be it a smooth or rough road. What is abundantly clear to me right now is that He is way more capable of holding me than I am of holding onto Him.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Scary Blessings
Last Friday, I fell in love again. This time with a baby.
The one that happens to be inside me right now.
Big news, I know. I’ve spent the last 10 days in utter shock and intermittent panic. I’m only 6 weeks and a few days along, and I know that’s pretty early to be blabbing such news. However, I figure I have shared almost every challenge in my life over the last few years on this blog, and truthfully when I don’t write about what I’m dealing with, I always regret it. I’m a writer at heart and I’m going to have to accept that. So regardless of what happens I might as well catalog this adventure here.
Anyway, as I mentioned, since discovering my pregnancy, I’ve been in shock, panic, fear, and a little bit of sadness I must admit. Dwayne and I have both shed our share of tears. This wasn’t something we were planning for. As a matter of fact we were planning AGAINST this. Because of the embolisms I had in 2007, pregnancy is a scary thing for me. So after two home tests and one doctor visit confirmed my fear, I ended up at a Perinatologist’s office on Friday, braced for the bad news about what this pregnancy might entail for me. I was still kind of hoping she’d somehow say “I don’t know what test you took, or what doctor you saw…you aren’t pregnant.” But she didn’t say that. The doctor plopped me up on a table and started squirting ultrasound stuff on my belly. She started poking around and I had a moment of more panic. Part of me hoped she found nothing, and part of me desperately hoped she found everything ok. Then I saw it. My baby’s heart beating away on the ultrasound screen… and there I went. That was all it took.
After that, two daily injections of blood thinner throughout the pregnancy weren’t quite so scary anymore, and the idea of an induced controlled labor wasn’t so horrifying. The swirling questions like “What if I get another clot? Or What if I bleed to death? And How will we afford this?” gave way to “Will it be a boy or a girl? And Will she be healthy? And Am I really going to get to meet the person produced by me and Dwayne?”
Scary blessings. That’s something God is into with me. Dwayne and I were laughing with Jim on Sunday after we told him, about how I’d been blogging lately about how my life is settling down….
Settling, schmettling. It’s evidently not in the plan for me. So… deep breath… I’ve trusted God for big things before, and this will be no exception. Me, my love, my kids, and the little heartbeat inside me will all be trusting Him for this one.
The one that happens to be inside me right now.
Big news, I know. I’ve spent the last 10 days in utter shock and intermittent panic. I’m only 6 weeks and a few days along, and I know that’s pretty early to be blabbing such news. However, I figure I have shared almost every challenge in my life over the last few years on this blog, and truthfully when I don’t write about what I’m dealing with, I always regret it. I’m a writer at heart and I’m going to have to accept that. So regardless of what happens I might as well catalog this adventure here.
Anyway, as I mentioned, since discovering my pregnancy, I’ve been in shock, panic, fear, and a little bit of sadness I must admit. Dwayne and I have both shed our share of tears. This wasn’t something we were planning for. As a matter of fact we were planning AGAINST this. Because of the embolisms I had in 2007, pregnancy is a scary thing for me. So after two home tests and one doctor visit confirmed my fear, I ended up at a Perinatologist’s office on Friday, braced for the bad news about what this pregnancy might entail for me. I was still kind of hoping she’d somehow say “I don’t know what test you took, or what doctor you saw…you aren’t pregnant.” But she didn’t say that. The doctor plopped me up on a table and started squirting ultrasound stuff on my belly. She started poking around and I had a moment of more panic. Part of me hoped she found nothing, and part of me desperately hoped she found everything ok. Then I saw it. My baby’s heart beating away on the ultrasound screen… and there I went. That was all it took.
After that, two daily injections of blood thinner throughout the pregnancy weren’t quite so scary anymore, and the idea of an induced controlled labor wasn’t so horrifying. The swirling questions like “What if I get another clot? Or What if I bleed to death? And How will we afford this?” gave way to “Will it be a boy or a girl? And Will she be healthy? And Am I really going to get to meet the person produced by me and Dwayne?”
Scary blessings. That’s something God is into with me. Dwayne and I were laughing with Jim on Sunday after we told him, about how I’d been blogging lately about how my life is settling down….
Settling, schmettling. It’s evidently not in the plan for me. So… deep breath… I’ve trusted God for big things before, and this will be no exception. Me, my love, my kids, and the little heartbeat inside me will all be trusting Him for this one.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Giving What I Have
This morning my pastor reminded me of a passage in Acts 3 I hadn’t thought of for a while. It’s one of those well known Bible stories, a Sunday School staple, and so I was familiar with the words. I even had a picture in my mind from childhood, a concept of what the scene would have looked like. Peter and John on their way to the temple and as they go, they pass the beggar by the gate called Beautiful. The beggar had been crippled from birth and the people would bring him to the gate so he could beg for alms. Peter and John passed by and he begged them for money just as he begged everyone else. What they said to him always gets me. “Silver and gold have I none, but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.”
This morning those words had meaning to me in a different way than ever before. My husband and I were in a conversation the other day and he asked me what I was passionate about. (His passion for food makes him a great chef, a total joy to watch… not to mention the food I get to eat!) I didn’t want to talk about it. Though my main passions in life haven’t really changed, so much of my circumstance HAS changed that I’m not so sure these days that I have too many “passion outlets” so to speak. Call it adjusting to family life. Call it a lot of huge changes in a short time. Call it finally being realistic about what and who I am. I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m only saying that so much of my life has changed that I don’t express myself in the ways I always did before.
Here’s the kicker: God doesn’t always do things the way we expect. (ya THINK?) Here go Peter and John on the way to the temple, minding their own business. They get asked for some money. One would think they might consider just giving the money, and if they had none, which they stated was the case, then they might just say something like, “Sorry man, wish I could help, but I’m just as broke as you are.” But no. They were able to think outside the box. (At the suggestion of the Holy Spirit, I’m sure) They didn’t do what the man expected. They didn’t minister in the way most people would have. They had no money, and told the man so. What they did next was what really struck me this morning. Peter TOOK THE MAN BY THE HAND and he stood up and walked.
The weekend Dwayne and I eloped, I flew to New Orleans by way of Dallas, TX. I had to stop in Dallas to pick up my car. (Long story.) Anyway, I ended up on the plane next to a woman who appeared harmless at first glance, but the longer the plane ride, the more agitated and upset she became. At first, I thought I’d better leave her alone. I wanted to concentrate on my happy plans, after all. But the more upset she became, the stronger I felt I should reach out to her. So I went there. All it took was one glance over at her, one kind word and I was in. Come to find out, she was on her way to Dallas, having just learned the night before that her mother had been found dead in her home there. Upon hearing the news, my new friend had indulged a bit too much in some alcoholic beverage and so was completely clueless about where she was going and when she was supposed to get there. She was panicky, hung over, and completely in pieces. I held her hand and cried with her. Then when we finally landed, I took her arm, led her to the ladies room and then literally handed her to her brother who was waiting to pick her up.
That day I had no answers for that woman. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I even remember her name. I had no counseling degree, no professional designation, no title of “women’s minister” or “Christian speaker,” the usual things I would expect to be called upon to give her. At this moment, I find it laughable that I would have ever thought any of those things was enough, but at one time I did. I felt completely ill-equipped, since I was (and still am) asking my own very hard questions about the terrible things in life and why God allows them. But what I had, I gave to this woman. I had a warm hand, a couple of tissues, an open heart and some of my own tears. Once she walked away with her brother, I had a long ride to New Orleans to contemplate the situation. This morning when Jim read the passage in Acts 3, God brought that woman to my mind. I didn’t have the usual “grade A” church stuff to give that woman. I even felt completely incapable of helping her at all, my level of belief was so low at the time. However, all God asked me to do was give her what I had. And it was worth it. I could picture this morning as Jim read the words, Peter’s hand extended to the beggar, and then my own hand daring to reach out and touch a lady who was drunk and crying. What I had, I gave her.
This is the part that brings me tears. It doesn’t matter if a church, or a group, or anyone thinks I’m good enough. It doesn’t matter that I was on a plane and not a stage. So many things I don’t know about anymore, but one bottom line I’m still sure of is that God loves me and He changed my life. I have no clue why He has asked me to walk in some of the places He has taken me. But I know He’s never left me, even when I’ve been angry with Him or ignored Him altogether. That bottom line was all I had to give her, and that was exactly what she needed right then. She needed somebody like me who has finally been through enough pain to understand completely how somebody could end up drunk on a plane at 7:00 in the morning. She needed somebody who was tired enough of churchy phrases not to even bother offering her any. She needed somebody who felt dirty enough herself not to be put off at the idea of reaching out to a stranger who hadn’t combed her hair and who smelled of alcohol. That day she needed what I had to give.
Just like on that day recorded in Acts, the beggar needed what Peter and John had to give. He didn’t really need money, which perhaps could be why they were in a situation where they had none. After all, it certainly would have been easier to just throw a coin to the beggar and keep on walking. What Peter and John had to give the man required that they take him by the hand and get at least a little bit involved in his life. Definitely the more difficult of the two options. Just like me that morning on the plane. I felt totally stripped of anything worth giving to that broken woman. I feel broken myself so much of the time. And yet because of my own heartache, I was able to give her exactly what she needed.
All this stuff is swirling around in my heart, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I know my whole life is totally, radically different than what it was 2 years ago. I know I never expected the joy and the pain that I’ve had over the last months. I know in the middle of all this change, it’s difficult not to lose my purpose. But this morning’s thoughts helped me know it’s still there. I may not have the expected equipment, the stuff I used to take such pride in, but for some who will cross my path, I have exactly what is needed. My passion and purpose still lives. It lives in moments on airplanes, in unexpected phone calls, in opportunities to love unconditionally, at work when I listen to someone’s story for the hundredth time, or patiently answer the same question I answered five minutes ago. It’s a little of whatever I happen to have, given to whomever may need it, whenever that time happens to come along. That’s me. That’s what I do, and why I live. It’s why I lived 3 years ago when I rarely left the church grounds to accomplish such things, and it’s why I live now, when I rarely accomplish such things at church. Perhaps the purpose, just like the Purpose-Giver, doesn’t change. Perhaps our purpose and passion can remain intact and can take ever-evolving forms as our lives grow and change. Perhaps it’s about time I figured out that I can live His purpose for me in whatever circumstance I happen to be.
This morning those words had meaning to me in a different way than ever before. My husband and I were in a conversation the other day and he asked me what I was passionate about. (His passion for food makes him a great chef, a total joy to watch… not to mention the food I get to eat!) I didn’t want to talk about it. Though my main passions in life haven’t really changed, so much of my circumstance HAS changed that I’m not so sure these days that I have too many “passion outlets” so to speak. Call it adjusting to family life. Call it a lot of huge changes in a short time. Call it finally being realistic about what and who I am. I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m only saying that so much of my life has changed that I don’t express myself in the ways I always did before.
Here’s the kicker: God doesn’t always do things the way we expect. (ya THINK?) Here go Peter and John on the way to the temple, minding their own business. They get asked for some money. One would think they might consider just giving the money, and if they had none, which they stated was the case, then they might just say something like, “Sorry man, wish I could help, but I’m just as broke as you are.” But no. They were able to think outside the box. (At the suggestion of the Holy Spirit, I’m sure) They didn’t do what the man expected. They didn’t minister in the way most people would have. They had no money, and told the man so. What they did next was what really struck me this morning. Peter TOOK THE MAN BY THE HAND and he stood up and walked.
The weekend Dwayne and I eloped, I flew to New Orleans by way of Dallas, TX. I had to stop in Dallas to pick up my car. (Long story.) Anyway, I ended up on the plane next to a woman who appeared harmless at first glance, but the longer the plane ride, the more agitated and upset she became. At first, I thought I’d better leave her alone. I wanted to concentrate on my happy plans, after all. But the more upset she became, the stronger I felt I should reach out to her. So I went there. All it took was one glance over at her, one kind word and I was in. Come to find out, she was on her way to Dallas, having just learned the night before that her mother had been found dead in her home there. Upon hearing the news, my new friend had indulged a bit too much in some alcoholic beverage and so was completely clueless about where she was going and when she was supposed to get there. She was panicky, hung over, and completely in pieces. I held her hand and cried with her. Then when we finally landed, I took her arm, led her to the ladies room and then literally handed her to her brother who was waiting to pick her up.
That day I had no answers for that woman. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I even remember her name. I had no counseling degree, no professional designation, no title of “women’s minister” or “Christian speaker,” the usual things I would expect to be called upon to give her. At this moment, I find it laughable that I would have ever thought any of those things was enough, but at one time I did. I felt completely ill-equipped, since I was (and still am) asking my own very hard questions about the terrible things in life and why God allows them. But what I had, I gave to this woman. I had a warm hand, a couple of tissues, an open heart and some of my own tears. Once she walked away with her brother, I had a long ride to New Orleans to contemplate the situation. This morning when Jim read the passage in Acts 3, God brought that woman to my mind. I didn’t have the usual “grade A” church stuff to give that woman. I even felt completely incapable of helping her at all, my level of belief was so low at the time. However, all God asked me to do was give her what I had. And it was worth it. I could picture this morning as Jim read the words, Peter’s hand extended to the beggar, and then my own hand daring to reach out and touch a lady who was drunk and crying. What I had, I gave her.
This is the part that brings me tears. It doesn’t matter if a church, or a group, or anyone thinks I’m good enough. It doesn’t matter that I was on a plane and not a stage. So many things I don’t know about anymore, but one bottom line I’m still sure of is that God loves me and He changed my life. I have no clue why He has asked me to walk in some of the places He has taken me. But I know He’s never left me, even when I’ve been angry with Him or ignored Him altogether. That bottom line was all I had to give her, and that was exactly what she needed right then. She needed somebody like me who has finally been through enough pain to understand completely how somebody could end up drunk on a plane at 7:00 in the morning. She needed somebody who was tired enough of churchy phrases not to even bother offering her any. She needed somebody who felt dirty enough herself not to be put off at the idea of reaching out to a stranger who hadn’t combed her hair and who smelled of alcohol. That day she needed what I had to give.
Just like on that day recorded in Acts, the beggar needed what Peter and John had to give. He didn’t really need money, which perhaps could be why they were in a situation where they had none. After all, it certainly would have been easier to just throw a coin to the beggar and keep on walking. What Peter and John had to give the man required that they take him by the hand and get at least a little bit involved in his life. Definitely the more difficult of the two options. Just like me that morning on the plane. I felt totally stripped of anything worth giving to that broken woman. I feel broken myself so much of the time. And yet because of my own heartache, I was able to give her exactly what she needed.
All this stuff is swirling around in my heart, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I know my whole life is totally, radically different than what it was 2 years ago. I know I never expected the joy and the pain that I’ve had over the last months. I know in the middle of all this change, it’s difficult not to lose my purpose. But this morning’s thoughts helped me know it’s still there. I may not have the expected equipment, the stuff I used to take such pride in, but for some who will cross my path, I have exactly what is needed. My passion and purpose still lives. It lives in moments on airplanes, in unexpected phone calls, in opportunities to love unconditionally, at work when I listen to someone’s story for the hundredth time, or patiently answer the same question I answered five minutes ago. It’s a little of whatever I happen to have, given to whomever may need it, whenever that time happens to come along. That’s me. That’s what I do, and why I live. It’s why I lived 3 years ago when I rarely left the church grounds to accomplish such things, and it’s why I live now, when I rarely accomplish such things at church. Perhaps the purpose, just like the Purpose-Giver, doesn’t change. Perhaps our purpose and passion can remain intact and can take ever-evolving forms as our lives grow and change. Perhaps it’s about time I figured out that I can live His purpose for me in whatever circumstance I happen to be.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Building an Us
I've missed you, blog! Oh I've been wonderfully busy with the most magnificent things, but I've still missed you!
I'm thinking today how fun it is to be making an "us" out of a "him" and "me." I'm getting a blessed opportunity to build a life together with my new husband and now the kids are home, which makes for a more crazy and infinitely more interesting journey. It's not easy to blend a family. It can also be delightfully rewarding.
One thing I love is that we began our marriage with a very seasoned, very established him, and a pretty seasoned and established me. I had my own things, he had his. I had my own traditions, he had his. I had my own ideas about how to make love work, and he had his. So now, we begin blending his things, his traditions, his ideas with mine and a new "us" is born. I have to say this is so much different from the first time when I had nothing. I was so young, I had literally no idea what I was doing. This time, I'm well aware of the risks, the sacrifices, the potential pain, as is he. We decided it was worth the risk and we jumped! Now I have to say what we're "cooking up" is pretty yummy, with the ingredients each of us has to give.
I must also say it's been awkward at times. Ya see, I married outside my denomination. (GASP!!!) And I married rather quickly, much sooner than the prescribed mourning period or whatever an approved amount of time it is a person is supposed to wait around before they move on after a divorce. A surprising move for a denominational poster girl like me. Some people aren't quite sure what to make of it. But I must be honest with you. I can't think of a marriage (except possibly my own parents) in my denomination or among people who would advise me against my choice, that I envy. Not one. Nobody seems to be having the kind of deep love, laughter, joy, and even heartwrenching passion that would make me look at their marriage and say "Boy, I wish I had a marriage like that." Know whose marriage I envy? MINE! Oh yeah, I know we just started and all that and we're still honeymooning and all that. I'm all too aware of the challenges we will face and the fact that we will have to work very hard at maintaining what we have begun. We've had our disagreements and already the obstacles are great. I suppose I'm trying to simply voice the thought that though my new marriage has met with some disapproval here and there, I find it interesting that the kind of love and depth of passion and joy I always dreamed of is now mine, and though my man isn't a member of my denomination, he demonstrates the kind of love and care I rarely saw inside my denomination between a husband and wife. I'd always been told marriage should be like this, but never saw it lived until now... a man outside my denomination happens to be showing me... and maybe them... how it's done.
This brings me to a sobering thought about my own self. How often have I written off people, due to their differences, perhaps in beliefs or looks or whatever, and missed something spectacular? See the amazing guy I'm married to now, wasn't on what would once have been my list of approved individuals with which to associate. Yowie! I suppose it took going through the kind of humiliation that rotated me off of some people's approved lists to open my mind and heart to something different, something deeper that just what I found inside my own self. Boy am I glad it did.
I have much more to download from my mind and my heart.
For now, I close with a list of happy pleasures:
Giggles and smiles in our home, a big goofy dog that loves my boy, loaning one of my favorite books to my daughter, catching up over coffee, holding wrinkled hands at work, a husband who is a chef... how could I ask for more??, noisy laughter that happens when kids sock slide on the wood floor down the hallway, and quiet moments with my babies just settling in at home.
I'm thinking today how fun it is to be making an "us" out of a "him" and "me." I'm getting a blessed opportunity to build a life together with my new husband and now the kids are home, which makes for a more crazy and infinitely more interesting journey. It's not easy to blend a family. It can also be delightfully rewarding.
One thing I love is that we began our marriage with a very seasoned, very established him, and a pretty seasoned and established me. I had my own things, he had his. I had my own traditions, he had his. I had my own ideas about how to make love work, and he had his. So now, we begin blending his things, his traditions, his ideas with mine and a new "us" is born. I have to say this is so much different from the first time when I had nothing. I was so young, I had literally no idea what I was doing. This time, I'm well aware of the risks, the sacrifices, the potential pain, as is he. We decided it was worth the risk and we jumped! Now I have to say what we're "cooking up" is pretty yummy, with the ingredients each of us has to give.
I must also say it's been awkward at times. Ya see, I married outside my denomination. (GASP!!!) And I married rather quickly, much sooner than the prescribed mourning period or whatever an approved amount of time it is a person is supposed to wait around before they move on after a divorce. A surprising move for a denominational poster girl like me. Some people aren't quite sure what to make of it. But I must be honest with you. I can't think of a marriage (except possibly my own parents) in my denomination or among people who would advise me against my choice, that I envy. Not one. Nobody seems to be having the kind of deep love, laughter, joy, and even heartwrenching passion that would make me look at their marriage and say "Boy, I wish I had a marriage like that." Know whose marriage I envy? MINE! Oh yeah, I know we just started and all that and we're still honeymooning and all that. I'm all too aware of the challenges we will face and the fact that we will have to work very hard at maintaining what we have begun. We've had our disagreements and already the obstacles are great. I suppose I'm trying to simply voice the thought that though my new marriage has met with some disapproval here and there, I find it interesting that the kind of love and depth of passion and joy I always dreamed of is now mine, and though my man isn't a member of my denomination, he demonstrates the kind of love and care I rarely saw inside my denomination between a husband and wife. I'd always been told marriage should be like this, but never saw it lived until now... a man outside my denomination happens to be showing me... and maybe them... how it's done.
This brings me to a sobering thought about my own self. How often have I written off people, due to their differences, perhaps in beliefs or looks or whatever, and missed something spectacular? See the amazing guy I'm married to now, wasn't on what would once have been my list of approved individuals with which to associate. Yowie! I suppose it took going through the kind of humiliation that rotated me off of some people's approved lists to open my mind and heart to something different, something deeper that just what I found inside my own self. Boy am I glad it did.
I have much more to download from my mind and my heart.
For now, I close with a list of happy pleasures:
Giggles and smiles in our home, a big goofy dog that loves my boy, loaning one of my favorite books to my daughter, catching up over coffee, holding wrinkled hands at work, a husband who is a chef... how could I ask for more??, noisy laughter that happens when kids sock slide on the wood floor down the hallway, and quiet moments with my babies just settling in at home.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Lazy River
I miss my kids. Dreadfully. They stayed in Florida to finish school, and I have to admit the honeymoon time alone with my man has been absolutely incredible. Still, I miss my babies. It just isn't right not to have them in my arms. Their rooms are all ready and waiting. Every day Dwayne and I walk past empty kids rooms and kind of sigh to each other. We are pitiful! Only a few more days, though, and we'll have them home.
In the meantime, I'm settling in, finding my place. I'm finding that crazy drive I used to have, that push to get everything done RIGHT NOW is not so present in my life these days. The constant fear of letting everyone down, fear that I might not be the best, fear that I might fail and therefore suffer the loss of my worth as an individual is gone. The heavy weight of everyone's expectations or rather my concern over everyone's expectations is lifted.
Not that I've done away with goals or plans, or that I've said "forget it" to my heart's dreams. I'm not sure how to explain it except to say I've let go. Not of what I was created to do or be. I'm still doing and being. But I've let go of the idealistic me. The one that thought pleasing everyone would make everything alright. If only I could be good enough for everyone, I thought, then they'd be happy and so would I. HA! It don' work dat way, in case you was wonderin'!
These days I'm feeling more seasoned, more settled, more like I've landed. I'm pleased with my accomplishments thus far, but more than that I'm grateful to be accepted by God for who I am, failures and all. I'm grateful for the ability to take a deep breath, relax, and allow my life to ease along like a lazy river for a while. It seems I'm accustomed to stirring up rapids whenever possible, or perhaps rapids find me. Either way, while navigating rapids it's difficult to take in the scenery. And I must say my life involves some lovely scenery indeed.
Wave if ya see me float by!
In the meantime, I'm settling in, finding my place. I'm finding that crazy drive I used to have, that push to get everything done RIGHT NOW is not so present in my life these days. The constant fear of letting everyone down, fear that I might not be the best, fear that I might fail and therefore suffer the loss of my worth as an individual is gone. The heavy weight of everyone's expectations or rather my concern over everyone's expectations is lifted.
Not that I've done away with goals or plans, or that I've said "forget it" to my heart's dreams. I'm not sure how to explain it except to say I've let go. Not of what I was created to do or be. I'm still doing and being. But I've let go of the idealistic me. The one that thought pleasing everyone would make everything alright. If only I could be good enough for everyone, I thought, then they'd be happy and so would I. HA! It don' work dat way, in case you was wonderin'!
These days I'm feeling more seasoned, more settled, more like I've landed. I'm pleased with my accomplishments thus far, but more than that I'm grateful to be accepted by God for who I am, failures and all. I'm grateful for the ability to take a deep breath, relax, and allow my life to ease along like a lazy river for a while. It seems I'm accustomed to stirring up rapids whenever possible, or perhaps rapids find me. Either way, while navigating rapids it's difficult to take in the scenery. And I must say my life involves some lovely scenery indeed.
Wave if ya see me float by!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Thanks, God.
There is a theme, a sort of steady song ringing inside me these days. It's definitely one of gratitude. Seriously, just think about it...
It's Saturday morning. I'm sitting at a cute little coffee house with a white chocolate cappucino next to me. I have a doting husband who is absolutely nuts about me. He took me dancing last night. And made me surf and turf (steak and fish). Broiled fish in this yummy marinade with creole tomato slices on top with grilled steak. I wore a scandalous dress and felt like a queen. He's at work today so I stole some time to have brunch with a friend and do some catching up. Then over here to write a little.
I have a job I absolutely love. It suits me so well. I love making money doing something I adore. I'm working again at St. Francis Villa Assisted Living. SUCH a fun place, and my job is basically to increase the fun. Did I mention it's FUN???
My sweet husband is the chef at St. Francis Villa. He's been there a long time, so the residents are quite fond of him, and also of me I like to think. Our marriage and new beginning has been so sweet to experience with them. It's like celebrating with 60 grandparents. They can't wait for the kids to get here.
Neither can I. I have two absolutely beautiful children. They are almost finished with school in Florida and they'll be on their way home!! Their friends here are waiting excitedly, as are their mom and stepdad! Not to mention their new dog. (Anyone who's read this blog with any regularity knows I have no small amount of contempt for animals who excrete waste in my general area. However, this particular dog happens to be owned and very well trained by the man I love and I must admit I'm getting a little soft spot in my heart for him.) He's a gorgeous lab and is just itching for a little boy and girl to love.
I live in an amazing city and my home is in the most perfect location ever. I'm steps from the Mississippi and from Uptown New Orleans charm. I'm a few moments car ride from pretty much any are of the city I want to see and still located in a relatively wholesome neighborhood. At night I hear ships bellow at us from the river as they pass by, trains whistle to announce themselves as they speed through the town. Daytime brings just enough hustle and bustle, and yet my back yard (actually a river levee) reflects a relaxed ease that permeates this city even on its most raucous day.
I have lived deep sorrow and even deeper love. I can't understand but I CAN revel in the love of a God who would give Himself for me and who would stoop to understand and care about my every need. I have
Fresh Air, sunshine, vidalia onions and peace.
Laughter, strawberry jam, lazy mornings and joy.
Two blue eyed babies, unlimited mobile-to-mobile calling, sno-balls this summer and hope.
Romance, sweet wine, bubble baths and love.
A charmed life is mine indeed and I am grateful. Grateful enough to determine not to let a second go by that I don't fully experience and enjoy. The bad things are bad, and they're still there. Guess they always will be. But they are and always have been outweighed by the incredible sweetness that has been poured over my life.
Thanks, God. Seems silly, almost pitiful in light of the blessings bestowed upon me. But those words are loaded with emotion. He hears their inflection and He knows just what I mean.
It's Saturday morning. I'm sitting at a cute little coffee house with a white chocolate cappucino next to me. I have a doting husband who is absolutely nuts about me. He took me dancing last night. And made me surf and turf (steak and fish). Broiled fish in this yummy marinade with creole tomato slices on top with grilled steak. I wore a scandalous dress and felt like a queen. He's at work today so I stole some time to have brunch with a friend and do some catching up. Then over here to write a little.
I have a job I absolutely love. It suits me so well. I love making money doing something I adore. I'm working again at St. Francis Villa Assisted Living. SUCH a fun place, and my job is basically to increase the fun. Did I mention it's FUN???
My sweet husband is the chef at St. Francis Villa. He's been there a long time, so the residents are quite fond of him, and also of me I like to think. Our marriage and new beginning has been so sweet to experience with them. It's like celebrating with 60 grandparents. They can't wait for the kids to get here.
Neither can I. I have two absolutely beautiful children. They are almost finished with school in Florida and they'll be on their way home!! Their friends here are waiting excitedly, as are their mom and stepdad! Not to mention their new dog. (Anyone who's read this blog with any regularity knows I have no small amount of contempt for animals who excrete waste in my general area. However, this particular dog happens to be owned and very well trained by the man I love and I must admit I'm getting a little soft spot in my heart for him.) He's a gorgeous lab and is just itching for a little boy and girl to love.
I live in an amazing city and my home is in the most perfect location ever. I'm steps from the Mississippi and from Uptown New Orleans charm. I'm a few moments car ride from pretty much any are of the city I want to see and still located in a relatively wholesome neighborhood. At night I hear ships bellow at us from the river as they pass by, trains whistle to announce themselves as they speed through the town. Daytime brings just enough hustle and bustle, and yet my back yard (actually a river levee) reflects a relaxed ease that permeates this city even on its most raucous day.
I have lived deep sorrow and even deeper love. I can't understand but I CAN revel in the love of a God who would give Himself for me and who would stoop to understand and care about my every need. I have
Fresh Air, sunshine, vidalia onions and peace.
Laughter, strawberry jam, lazy mornings and joy.
Two blue eyed babies, unlimited mobile-to-mobile calling, sno-balls this summer and hope.
Romance, sweet wine, bubble baths and love.
A charmed life is mine indeed and I am grateful. Grateful enough to determine not to let a second go by that I don't fully experience and enjoy. The bad things are bad, and they're still there. Guess they always will be. But they are and always have been outweighed by the incredible sweetness that has been poured over my life.
Thanks, God. Seems silly, almost pitiful in light of the blessings bestowed upon me. But those words are loaded with emotion. He hears their inflection and He knows just what I mean.
Monday, May 25, 2009
About Time.
Though I'm certain you can understand the reason for my lack of blog activity lately, I have to say myself, it's about time!
Last evening I experienced a feeling I haven't had in a very long time. I felt settled, steady, at home. I've spent the last four weeks nesting, adding my own touches to my husband's house, making it our home. I've been busy learning my new job and my new neighborhood. Over the last few years, my life has been full of plenty of uncertainty, and I must tell you I'm so pleased to be feeling rested, settled, grounded. I've chosen a home and an awesome new life and it feels SO good to be me right now. It's about time.
I have tons to write about... terribly interesting and wonderful things I've been mulling over in my brain. For now I've gotta run, promise to be back with more soon.
Last evening I experienced a feeling I haven't had in a very long time. I felt settled, steady, at home. I've spent the last four weeks nesting, adding my own touches to my husband's house, making it our home. I've been busy learning my new job and my new neighborhood. Over the last few years, my life has been full of plenty of uncertainty, and I must tell you I'm so pleased to be feeling rested, settled, grounded. I've chosen a home and an awesome new life and it feels SO good to be me right now. It's about time.
I have tons to write about... terribly interesting and wonderful things I've been mulling over in my brain. For now I've gotta run, promise to be back with more soon.
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