Today was my son's 14th birthday. So many things about this day point to how much he has grown. I woke up to a yard full of streamers and signs(thanks to a group of teenage girls that live down the street). I dropped him and a friend off at a water park for the day- the first birthday that involved more time with friends than with family. The gifts are even changing- hats, knives, guns- only now they're not pretend. In a month he'll be starting high school.
But I still get glimpses of the little boy that used to climb up in my lap and ask for a piece of my drink. He went to bed early last night because he wanted his birthday to get here faster. He told me the other day he could tell a kid in our neighborhood was becoming a better person because he had started wearing polos and tucking his shirts in. He saved his ticket stub from last week when we went to see Toy Story 3. He almost knocked my end table over yesterday racing through the house with the dog.
Am I desperately searching for signs of any little boy left? Yes. It is so hard to watch childhood end. It's the beginning of a new phase of his life but it's also the end of one- and it's almost like mourning the death of something. Mostly I'm excited to watch him grow and change but then there are moments I could just cry becuase I want to hold that little boy one more time. I want to look for bugs with him in the yard and race him down the hill and have him stand on the chair in the kitchen to help me make brownies. I want to trip over his matchbox cars and discuss whether a jaguar or a warrior would win in a fight.
I may not get those times again but I'm so glad I have had them. I love my girls dearly but I would not trade those little boy moments for anything in the world. And I know the years to come will hold just as many that are dear to my heart. Happy 14th birthday, buddy.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Yancy
Yancy was 2 years older than me. I was in 6th grade, he was in 8th- but I knew the first time I saw his super tan skin and white-blond surfer hair- he was the one for me. When you live in Florida- particularly in the 80's- there was no look that could beat the surfer look. Alas- we had little contact since my middle school separated 6th grade from everyone else. We were in our own separate building, quarantined from the truly interesting kids- especially the surfers. It was like pergatory- no longer in elementary school but not quite in middle school. We might catch glimpses of the older kids as we passed through the main building on our way to the cafeteria but usually they were behind closed doors locked away in class. But on this day it was as if the stars aligned and fate would have its way- Yancy was sent to the 6th grade building right as we were changing classes. I was in the hallway with my best friend, Molly, as he burst through the double doors- his hair blindingly bright in the sun. Not only was he right here but on this particular dayI had brought my camera to school. It is amazing how quickly two middle school girls can concoct a plan- mere milliseconds and we knew exactly what to do.
We followed him at a safe distance down the crowded hallway carefukl not to lose him( made easier by the hair)- he finally turned and went into a relatively empty classroom- Molly called out "Yancy!" and when he turned around I snapped his picture. Then we ran.
I will admit the last phase of this plan needed a little work- but overall it was a success. He looked like a deer in headlights in the photo but it captured his shiny white hair perfectly. So now I had a picture of him, knew where he went to school, where he lived, I even knew what his dad did for a living ( not hard since he owned the coolest surf shop in town, of course). By all appearances, Yancy and I were pretty tight. Except for one thing- I had never actually spoken to him( something I had effectively secured as permanent since the picture incident).
A lot of us approach our relationship with Christ the same way. We know who He is, who His Dad is, what He likes and dislikes, we have the Book He's written prominently displayed in our home- we can even quote some of the more famous things He's said...but we've never actually talked with Him.We may have prayed a sinner's prayer- never considering He might want more than a confession. He might really want us- not just for us to bow low and profess our unworthiness but for us to move from there into His arms- embracing His worth as our own, His love as sincere.
Mine and Yancy's relationship was short-lived- no surprise. Those imaginary ones usually are. You can't sustain something as intimate as a relationship, be it with God or a spouse or even a child- where both are not fully invested in knowing the other and being known- with all our failures and inadequacies- bringing both what we have and what we lack to the table. Fortunately with God- He is fully invested and has everything we lack.
We followed him at a safe distance down the crowded hallway carefukl not to lose him( made easier by the hair)- he finally turned and went into a relatively empty classroom- Molly called out "Yancy!" and when he turned around I snapped his picture. Then we ran.
I will admit the last phase of this plan needed a little work- but overall it was a success. He looked like a deer in headlights in the photo but it captured his shiny white hair perfectly. So now I had a picture of him, knew where he went to school, where he lived, I even knew what his dad did for a living ( not hard since he owned the coolest surf shop in town, of course). By all appearances, Yancy and I were pretty tight. Except for one thing- I had never actually spoken to him( something I had effectively secured as permanent since the picture incident).
A lot of us approach our relationship with Christ the same way. We know who He is, who His Dad is, what He likes and dislikes, we have the Book He's written prominently displayed in our home- we can even quote some of the more famous things He's said...but we've never actually talked with Him.We may have prayed a sinner's prayer- never considering He might want more than a confession. He might really want us- not just for us to bow low and profess our unworthiness but for us to move from there into His arms- embracing His worth as our own, His love as sincere.
Mine and Yancy's relationship was short-lived- no surprise. Those imaginary ones usually are. You can't sustain something as intimate as a relationship, be it with God or a spouse or even a child- where both are not fully invested in knowing the other and being known- with all our failures and inadequacies- bringing both what we have and what we lack to the table. Fortunately with God- He is fully invested and has everything we lack.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Puzzles
It is summer and at my house that means puzzles. We spend our evenings and spare time in the afternoons putting together 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles. We do a 4th of July themed one every year and usually one or two others. Brandt and I typically do the majority of the puzzle with a little help from everyone else. For some reason, though, the puzzle we did this time had everyone participating. At one point I left my house with four teenage kids working on this puzzle- not going to the pool or playing video games or watching TV. Each one was working on a different section - one on the buildings, another on the water, someone else on the fountain, and Brandt was piecing it all together. When I got back home- the puzzle was finished. Amazing. Brandt and I can spend a couple weeks working on one- but all of our combined effort produced a finished result in a matter of days.
It reminds me a lot of how the church is supposed to work. We are all working on our section of the "puzzle". We can't always tell how our piece fits in with everything else but we work at it anyway. Fortunately God knows exactly how everything is going to fit together to create what He has in mind. And imagine if, like at my house, everyone would stop with all the distractions and focus on their "piece" how quickly we would see progress. The Bible says "The harvest is plentiful, but workers are few." He needs us to go- not to other countries necessarily- but to our grocery stores and offices and schools and PTA meetings- and see the harvest all around us of hurting, broken people that need The Answer to all their heart's deepest needs. We are important- our piece is necessary for His vision to be complete.
It reminds me a lot of how the church is supposed to work. We are all working on our section of the "puzzle". We can't always tell how our piece fits in with everything else but we work at it anyway. Fortunately God knows exactly how everything is going to fit together to create what He has in mind. And imagine if, like at my house, everyone would stop with all the distractions and focus on their "piece" how quickly we would see progress. The Bible says "The harvest is plentiful, but workers are few." He needs us to go- not to other countries necessarily- but to our grocery stores and offices and schools and PTA meetings- and see the harvest all around us of hurting, broken people that need The Answer to all their heart's deepest needs. We are important- our piece is necessary for His vision to be complete.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Father's Day
Father's Day is tomorrow. We have celebrated it early at my house because we are having to split the day up somewhat tomorrow. I was thinking about Father's day and how it is supposed to be about dads- but really for my house- it's about the kids. Brad will get a card and a meal and not much more excitement than that. But the very fact that my kids have a dad they want to celebrate is a gift in itself for our home.
Our kids absolutely rely on the fact that he is here- not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually present for them. Sure he hates heights and water and bugs and (at times my kids will say) fun...but mostly he's pretty great. We don't like to tell him too much- I mean, he already thinks he's Iron Man- if his head got any bigger- what would we do? But the truth is- I don't know what we would do without him. Sure we have to clean our own gutters since he won't climb the ladder and I've saved him from a spider on more than one occasion..but he's still our hero. He is the only person in this house that can sew on a button or iron anything or get the printer working when it stops. He's also the only person that knows these kids as well as I do- that shares every memory of their lives with me- that remembers the tree frog jumping on Kenzie's head, Brandt's ER visit the day after Christmas, and Halle's love of the Wiggles. Who else would find recalling all their childhood stories as funny and interesting as I do? Only Brad. As I write he is taking a picture of Halle asleep on the couch. Do you know how many pictures of this child sleeping we already have? But he, like I, finds it perfectly logical to take another because we don't have a picture of her sleeping in this EXACT position wearing these same clothes, do we? Because he is a Father. I know there was a time he wonderd if he would ever be a good one, if he could ever be good enough for our kids- but I am here to tell you ( and most of the time our kids would agree) he is the best dad we have ever known.
So am I giving him all the credit for our home? Umm no- because, of course, it all comes back to my incredible ability to pick a man!
Our kids absolutely rely on the fact that he is here- not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually present for them. Sure he hates heights and water and bugs and (at times my kids will say) fun...but mostly he's pretty great. We don't like to tell him too much- I mean, he already thinks he's Iron Man- if his head got any bigger- what would we do? But the truth is- I don't know what we would do without him. Sure we have to clean our own gutters since he won't climb the ladder and I've saved him from a spider on more than one occasion..but he's still our hero. He is the only person in this house that can sew on a button or iron anything or get the printer working when it stops. He's also the only person that knows these kids as well as I do- that shares every memory of their lives with me- that remembers the tree frog jumping on Kenzie's head, Brandt's ER visit the day after Christmas, and Halle's love of the Wiggles. Who else would find recalling all their childhood stories as funny and interesting as I do? Only Brad. As I write he is taking a picture of Halle asleep on the couch. Do you know how many pictures of this child sleeping we already have? But he, like I, finds it perfectly logical to take another because we don't have a picture of her sleeping in this EXACT position wearing these same clothes, do we? Because he is a Father. I know there was a time he wonderd if he would ever be a good one, if he could ever be good enough for our kids- but I am here to tell you ( and most of the time our kids would agree) he is the best dad we have ever known.
So am I giving him all the credit for our home? Umm no- because, of course, it all comes back to my incredible ability to pick a man!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Suffering
"God's love cannot force, constrain, push, or pull. It offers the freedom to reject that love or to love in return. It is precisely the immensity of the divine love that is the source of the divine suffering. God, creator of heavens and earth, has chosen to be, first and foremost, a Father."
-Henri Nouwen
Can I really add anything to that? Nothing but what I have witnessed with my own children, and even that pales in comparison. It is but a shadow, but it's all I've got!
It's amazing when your kids are young how they love you. You can be horribly grouchy to a 3 year old and within seconds they will be back in your arms like nothing happened. Such forgiveness and grace in their innocence. They love you in such a way that makes you want to be worthy of such love and devotion. So you set out to become a better person for their sake. You change and you grow (hopefully) over the years..and so do they.
Then you have a teenager. Gone is the grace and forgiveness! Now after years of taking care of these kids you know the depth of your own love- you knew depth of emotion before when they were young- but now that love has been tested and tried and refined- it has a strength you never knew when they were babies. And the immensity of this love is turned into suffering as they reject your love, your guidance, your affection. Not every day or every moment but with a frequency that breaks your heart. You know somewhere inside they still love you only not as much as they love themself.
Am I giving teenagers a bad rap? Lumping them all in as a bad lot? No- they have many moments when they are absolutely amazing. And I adore the teenagers in my home but that is the crux of it. You absolutely adore these children who will thrill your heart one minute and break it the next. Here is where as parents we are most like our God and most like our children. Trying to love well these that He has given us- we are like Him in His love and His heartbreak. But in the same instant we are the wayward children who delight Him and cause His suffering. Deep inside we love Him, but more often than we care to admit- not as much as we love ourselves. How much sorrow have I brought His heart as I have rejected His love and affection and guidance? I pray my heart will forever be turned to Him- but I rest in knowing that when I inevitably turn to my own way- His love will outlast my hardheadedness!
-Henri Nouwen
Can I really add anything to that? Nothing but what I have witnessed with my own children, and even that pales in comparison. It is but a shadow, but it's all I've got!
It's amazing when your kids are young how they love you. You can be horribly grouchy to a 3 year old and within seconds they will be back in your arms like nothing happened. Such forgiveness and grace in their innocence. They love you in such a way that makes you want to be worthy of such love and devotion. So you set out to become a better person for their sake. You change and you grow (hopefully) over the years..and so do they.
Then you have a teenager. Gone is the grace and forgiveness! Now after years of taking care of these kids you know the depth of your own love- you knew depth of emotion before when they were young- but now that love has been tested and tried and refined- it has a strength you never knew when they were babies. And the immensity of this love is turned into suffering as they reject your love, your guidance, your affection. Not every day or every moment but with a frequency that breaks your heart. You know somewhere inside they still love you only not as much as they love themself.
Am I giving teenagers a bad rap? Lumping them all in as a bad lot? No- they have many moments when they are absolutely amazing. And I adore the teenagers in my home but that is the crux of it. You absolutely adore these children who will thrill your heart one minute and break it the next. Here is where as parents we are most like our God and most like our children. Trying to love well these that He has given us- we are like Him in His love and His heartbreak. But in the same instant we are the wayward children who delight Him and cause His suffering. Deep inside we love Him, but more often than we care to admit- not as much as we love ourselves. How much sorrow have I brought His heart as I have rejected His love and affection and guidance? I pray my heart will forever be turned to Him- but I rest in knowing that when I inevitably turn to my own way- His love will outlast my hardheadedness!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Poem
I wrote this a while back in the midst of a very difficult time and I thought it went along with yesterday's post. I'm not typically a poet so it's a little rhymey!
The arrow shot into my heart..
"Is God faithful? He is NOT"
The enemy's lie has been believed
My broken heart has been deceived.
Why is He giving others things I need
When I seek and I ask but He won't answer me?
Does He think they deserve more?
Why do I have to ask over and over?
Where do I turn if His love isn't true?
Just bide my time til this life is through?
The enemy's coils around me tighten
My heart becomes more and more frightened.
If His Word isn't the truth,
Then there are no moral absolutes.
I want to live, to be fully alive
But this overwhelming fear is ever by my side-
That God says He loves me but doesn't mean it...
I can't blame Him- I mean, my heart..have you seen it?
It's a mess and divided,
I wish I could hide it.
I strive and I try to make myself pure
But this wretched heart can't manage the cure.
Now I'm stumbling, fighting to take care of myself
I can't give anything to others, I have nothing left.
At the end of myself, I give in to defeat,
The broken pieces of my heart laid at His feet.
My life is a mess
What He'll do, I can only guess.
Be disgusted and angry?
I am laid bare in His sovereignty.
His gentle arms envelop me,
Rocking me, holding me gently.
Where is the anger, the wrath and harsh words?
Why isn't He treating me how I deserve?
His love is so great, my fear melts away
How could my faith ever have strayed?
He is good and faithful, my heart now can see
His answers were there- patiently waiting for me...
Love for my fear, peace for the storm...
All found there in the crook of His arm.
Tucked away in His presence my heart is set free,
Assured in all ways that He really loves me.
The arrow shot into my heart..
"Is God faithful? He is NOT"
The enemy's lie has been believed
My broken heart has been deceived.
Why is He giving others things I need
When I seek and I ask but He won't answer me?
Does He think they deserve more?
Why do I have to ask over and over?
Where do I turn if His love isn't true?
Just bide my time til this life is through?
The enemy's coils around me tighten
My heart becomes more and more frightened.
If His Word isn't the truth,
Then there are no moral absolutes.
I want to live, to be fully alive
But this overwhelming fear is ever by my side-
That God says He loves me but doesn't mean it...
I can't blame Him- I mean, my heart..have you seen it?
It's a mess and divided,
I wish I could hide it.
I strive and I try to make myself pure
But this wretched heart can't manage the cure.
Now I'm stumbling, fighting to take care of myself
I can't give anything to others, I have nothing left.
At the end of myself, I give in to defeat,
The broken pieces of my heart laid at His feet.
My life is a mess
What He'll do, I can only guess.
Be disgusted and angry?
I am laid bare in His sovereignty.
His gentle arms envelop me,
Rocking me, holding me gently.
Where is the anger, the wrath and harsh words?
Why isn't He treating me how I deserve?
His love is so great, my fear melts away
How could my faith ever have strayed?
He is good and faithful, my heart now can see
His answers were there- patiently waiting for me...
Love for my fear, peace for the storm...
All found there in the crook of His arm.
Tucked away in His presence my heart is set free,
Assured in all ways that He really loves me.
Hope
I had a conversation with a friend today about how she has reached a place where she is almost afraid to ask God for anything because she doesn't want to be disappointed anymore. Then I got home and had an e-mail asking for prayer from a family going through a long, drawn out medical struggle with their infant son. The mom said it's getting difficult because every time she gets her hopes up- she gets let down again. I could cry for them because I have so been there. What a miserable place to be where we are afraid to hope!
Hope is meant to be a lifeline for us, but in times like these- it's almost more bearable to just give up. This is why the Bible says hope deferred makes the heart sick. What do we do in these places where we still believe in God- we just don't believe Him anymore? I wish I could offer some formula that I learned through my own experiences that would bring His answer quickly. How do we keep hoping when it seems like He is absent from our circumstances? Brennan Manning talks about "tainted trust" where we have walked in the wilderness for so long that the promised land doesn't even seem real anymore. It's why the Israelites gave up right at the edge of their victory (remember the reports from the spies and the Israelites believed the bad report?).
I am in no way saying that if we just hold on long enough- we'll see whatever answer we're asking for. People lose their jobs, children die, marriages fall apart and quite often it has nothing to do with a lack of faith or perserverance on someone's part. It just happens. It is part of this broken world we live in.
This is where I am learning that my hope has to switch from my circumstances to Truth. It is not a quick-fix or a feel-good philosophy but it is the only thing that will bring peace that lasts no matter what happens. The Truth is that this life and all it's troubles are temporary, that we are living for something beyond our present happiness, and as we struggle through loss and change and disappointment- He is constant. Whether we feel His Presence or not- He is right there. I can only fall into His arms and ask Him to comfort me through the things I cannot understand and cannot change. There are times in our life when believing Him for the miraculous is not a possibility because it seems like just making it through the day, breathing in and out- is a miracle in itself. I do believe He is still healing, delivering, and providing in miraculous ways. But when He doesn't- He's still the same God I love and trust. When I am lying in a heap on the bathroom floor asking Him how I can make it one more day in my present circumstances, asking why it has to hurt so much, asking why He doesn't fix it because I know He can...He is still God. He is not threatened by my fear or my questions- He is not even offended at the smallness of my faith. He wraps me up in His arms and somehow brings me through the things I never thought I would survive.
The beautiful thing about it is that I love Him even more now than I did before it all fell apart. He is faithful and He will redeem all the pain we suffer.
Hope is meant to be a lifeline for us, but in times like these- it's almost more bearable to just give up. This is why the Bible says hope deferred makes the heart sick. What do we do in these places where we still believe in God- we just don't believe Him anymore? I wish I could offer some formula that I learned through my own experiences that would bring His answer quickly. How do we keep hoping when it seems like He is absent from our circumstances? Brennan Manning talks about "tainted trust" where we have walked in the wilderness for so long that the promised land doesn't even seem real anymore. It's why the Israelites gave up right at the edge of their victory (remember the reports from the spies and the Israelites believed the bad report?).
I am in no way saying that if we just hold on long enough- we'll see whatever answer we're asking for. People lose their jobs, children die, marriages fall apart and quite often it has nothing to do with a lack of faith or perserverance on someone's part. It just happens. It is part of this broken world we live in.
This is where I am learning that my hope has to switch from my circumstances to Truth. It is not a quick-fix or a feel-good philosophy but it is the only thing that will bring peace that lasts no matter what happens. The Truth is that this life and all it's troubles are temporary, that we are living for something beyond our present happiness, and as we struggle through loss and change and disappointment- He is constant. Whether we feel His Presence or not- He is right there. I can only fall into His arms and ask Him to comfort me through the things I cannot understand and cannot change. There are times in our life when believing Him for the miraculous is not a possibility because it seems like just making it through the day, breathing in and out- is a miracle in itself. I do believe He is still healing, delivering, and providing in miraculous ways. But when He doesn't- He's still the same God I love and trust. When I am lying in a heap on the bathroom floor asking Him how I can make it one more day in my present circumstances, asking why it has to hurt so much, asking why He doesn't fix it because I know He can...He is still God. He is not threatened by my fear or my questions- He is not even offended at the smallness of my faith. He wraps me up in His arms and somehow brings me through the things I never thought I would survive.
The beautiful thing about it is that I love Him even more now than I did before it all fell apart. He is faithful and He will redeem all the pain we suffer.
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