Who Knew?

Birdie is a writer.  She's always liked writing stories.  One of her favorites was her version of The Mitten by Jan Brett that she wrote and re-wrote starting at age 6.  But recently she shared what she's been writing for her own Fan Fiction page.

I read it with my mouth wide open.  She gets it.  She writes with great detail that brings you into the story.  Me - I'm just journalling.  She Writes.

Who knew that was there???

I shared this new discovery with her oldest brother.  He just took it in stride and said, "Yeah, you guys made some creative kids."

That we did.

The Healing Path

My healing path wanders from our neighborhood to a nearby park. As my soul has craved spring, it has also craved nature.

God speaks through nature.  It's His masterpiece.  I don't have the words to express how walking through the woods, listening to the water rushing through a run of rocks, the rat-a-tat-tat of the biggest pileated woodpecker I've ever seen, the silence of a mallard fishing in the quiet depths, and the smells of falling snow or the freshly turned spring earth scream out the assurance of God to me.

I am immensely thankful.

While I desperately need the exercise, my walks have also been reflective and about enjoyment.  Since spring is just now exerting its power, cutting through the woods from the path to the creek is open from the quickly awakening briars.  Many times over the past few weeks I've ventured off the path to the creek.  To listen, to breath, to praise the goodness of water flowing.

Monday, I went further.

My intent was to walk along the bank.  Then there was a downed tree.  I could have tried to climb around it, but the rocks made an easier path through the water.  I'm not sure you can jump from rock to rock without at least of a hint of a smile.

Exercise is good for the body and soul, but slowing down the pace to jump from rock to rock, to dip your fingers in the spring-cold, rushing water - that is a healing experience.  One I hope to take Birdie on later today.

Metaphorical Ramblings

The landscape was black and charred.  What had happened?  Was this a planned burn?  A careless camper?  A strike of lightning? Yet rising from desolation were crisp green shoots and persistent purple blooms.

I'll never forget that first glimpse of Yosemite.  We entered the park through winding roads criss-crossing the smoky remains of a mighty forest.   We never learned how the fire started, but what remained with me was the beauty of spring and new life emerging from the ashes even while large trees still smoked. 

My soul craves such a spring like my lungs require air.

Yet this year winter fights to hold on.  The sun is bright and looks warm, but the wind continues to bite and snowflakes drift just moments after warmth.

There are green shoots pushing through the black night of winter, and they bring me hope.

I never knew I would so desperately wish for spring.  And I'm learning from spring, that healing and growth come spurts and stops.  New growth takes time and warmth.  One day may be warm and sunny, followed by another snowy morning.  Something new will emerge - patience is required.  Like the remains of the forest fire, the big ones still smolder. 

We're coming through this dark season of our life.  Looking back I feel mightily blessed.  So many possible tragedies were simply trials.  What has seemed like a burnt wasteland is enabling new growth to emerge.  

Not Easy

It was 7 am and my two high schoolers should have been at school already.  However…

"The boy is NOT wearing any pants."

"The boy is STILL not wearing any pants."

"WHERE are the boy's pants?"

This was the running commentary from my oldest.  Meanwhile missing pants boy was searching for books, finding papers, signing forms and waiting for the pants to dry.  As I spun in circles trying to get one boy into the missing pants and both boys out the door, my oldest asked,

"Won't you your life be so much better and easier when we move out of the house?"

It was enough to stop me cold.

"No!"

No.  You see I never asked for easier.  I asked for children - children to love with more love than I knew I possessed.  And that's what makes my life better for all time.

These past four months have been the absolutely hardest and darkest of my life.  It's still hard. Things are getting a little better, but I also think we're just getting used to living with the hard things.

I would not trade one moment of these hard moments we've had - and trust me there have been moments I wouldn't wish on anyone - but I would not trade one moment if it meant being without my children.  Even in the midst of the difficult time.

I've learned a few things in the past few months.

• Sometimes when life is hard there's nothing you can do to fix it except pray AND pull up your boots and keep wading through the muck that is now your life.  Not eloquent, and also a PG version of the language I usually use, but true.
• Hard things can be very good things.  Hard conversations can be awful, hurtful, stressful, and at the same time very good for all involved.  I've learned to face the hard conversation and be glad for it afterwards.  Hard conversations don't have to end in fights.
• I know my children.  I've had my confidence shaken in a big way, but I know my children.  And when I consult my gut, God, and my husband, we usually come to a good decision.  
• That I am soooo blessed to be in this parenting thing with my dear husband.  We balance each other.  We support each other.  And as I told the kids one difficult Sunday when we were bickering, "We may drive each other crazy and be on each other's last nerve, but I still want to sit beside him and hold his hand in the middle of it."  
• That I absolutely do not have a brave or poker face.  I have a worried-face, tired-face, mad-face,  and I'm-biting-my-tongue-face, but no brave face to be found.  I never thought I had one, but it has been confirmed.  I cry too easily, and then I proceed to tell everyone I know how much I'm crying.  Yeah, no bravery for me.
• That New Years Day does not bring a change to life.  It's just another day. I didn't realize how I secretly wanted the New Year to bring peace to our lives, but I did. Unfortunately, it was a sad realization that problems don't just disappear from wishing.  Not only that, but more problems showed up the second week of January minutes after I declared I was at the end of my rope.
• Don't ever tell God you've had enough.  He'll decide when you've had enough.  That one's from my dear husband.  I wish he would have told me that earlier.  
• That my God is my lamp and the light in my darkness. There's not much more to know than that, now is there?  We will have troubles. There will be darkness. The darkness is not always about me or for me to understand.  But God will be with me. To this I cling.  

So life and children aren't easy.  But like I said I didn't ask for easy.  I asked to love.  And while I love their independence and dreams of their own futures, I don't look forward to the quiet days when they're gone.  I suspect that form of easy will be quite difficult in its own way.

The Talk - part many of many more….

One of my favorite quotes of a college guy friend is, "I wish I still knew everything I knew at 17. Because at 17 - I knew everything!"

Our oldest is right there.

His questions - or more accurately - critiques of us, his parents, really show how he is thinking about life and life choices at this stage. His critiques are usually of our parenting of his younger brother and sister. He wants us to be great parents and has no problem telling us where we could be, get this, stricter. But as we delve deep into a discussion, I usually realize there are questions behind his critiques. He's looking for our reasoning behind our choices and actions. He's looking for our statements and actions to match. Last night's conversation made me realize that these conversations will shape the type of parent he becomes one day. A day that I hope is more than a decade away, I might add.

Last night one topic he broached was sex. I laughed to myself when I heard the same exact words I had spoken at his age.

"Parents act like sex is some terrible thing."

And to some degree, we do. We talk about abstinence, pregnancies, diseases. We talk about waiting. Don't do it yet. Only once you're married.

He wanted real life answers to his very real questions. He didn't want to perfect answers that parents "should say." He wanted us to be real with him.

And while I was embarrassed at times, we had a great talk just the two of us. Afterwards, I brought his father and he together and brokered another talk. Our oldest has an easier time talking with me; yet, I hear from both my son and husband how they wish it was easier to talk to each other. I forced the issue last night, because I knew much of the wisdom I shared with our son, actually came from my conversations with Hon.

I'm so glad we had such an open and honest conversation. I will forever laugh and hopefully so laugh with my son over how many times Hon said, "So there are three issues with sex - pregnancy, diseases, and emotions."

Those were apparently his talking points, and he came back to that sentence over and over again. I swear the first time our son has sex he's going to be thinking, "Pregnancies, diseases, emotions." You had to be there. But oh, are we such "parents" at times.

Did we bring up God in our conversation last night? No.

Was I praying for his guidance and wisdom? Absolutely!!!

May God continue to guide our conversations. May he be involved in our every word and action. May he continue to build trust between our children and us. May this be just one of many talks. Amen.

Practicing the Piano

I feel called to begin writing again; and yet, I am so out of practice that it is painful.

Painful to find a place to start and even more painful to read. But it's an attempt to answer a desire that I can't deny. So here I go…because life really is just putting one foot in front of the other - no matter how gingerly.

I've started taking piano lessons when I was 9 years old. My best friend had taught me how to play Heart and Soul, and I begged for a piano and lessons. My parents found a piano either for $50 or free - no one really remembers - and my mom spent a few weeks lovingly removing kitty cat stickers and 47 coats of paint. I feel loved when I think of the effort she put forth for me.

It was a huge upright grand. And while it had a big sound, it never really stayed in tune very long. Not that it was tuned very often mind you. So three years ago, my dear husband replaced that piano with a beautiful baby grand for our anniversary. I dove back into playing music. I learned a few new songs, but I keep coming back to old favorites. I would practice and practice. Then I stopped practicing. Then I practiced some more.

You know what? I play the same three songs over and over again.

And you know what? I will never play them perfectly.

Never.

It was a huge day when I realized that I am not a "pianist." But I sure do love to play. I play songs that touch my heart over and over, mistake after mistake, and love each moment I'm playing. I think I have finally found grace in my lack of talent or perfection.

A friend tipped me off to the fact that there was a much deeper meaning to my little piano "aha" moment.

Yet, how does it apply to the rest of my life - my journey with God?

I've been through a season of seeing my "false" or sinful self. It hasn't been very uplifting. I keep trying and trying. I think I want God's transformation, yet all I see are my failures. No amount of practice or effort (I'm not even sure I give it much effort) seems to show a godly transformation.

Do you ever think you've almost got something figured out, but know you're not there yet?

The verse I keep coming back to this fall is Luke 22:42-43, "Yet not my will, but your will be done. And an angel appeared from heaven and strengthened him."

All my readings and thoughts conclude in the same place.

Not my will, but your will be done.

I don't have any answers to the great secrets of life except this one at the moment. I don't even want to imagine where it leads, because at times that's scary. I'm watching another mom deal with God's will for her life, and it's awful.

But I also know in the place beyond all understanding and knowledge that this is the key.

Not my will, but your will be done.

Daily Surrender

This month I've been reading My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers and loving it. Each day I find a few lines I underline and copy into my journal. Today's devotion was difficult. There wasn't a favorite line of epiphany - yet, I think I get it.

God witnesses to His Spirit within us. However, He cannot do that until we abandon ourselves to Him in total surrender.

Boy, when God wants to make a point in my life, He knows He has to keep hammering at the same idea. Surrendering to God is something that takes daily effort in my life. I've been considering this action a lot lately. I learned this summer, that just "knowing" I surrender isn't enough. I've found that I need to pray the words and contemplate what "surrendering" to His will might mean each day. It's what works for me. This is such hard work at times. I have so many of my own plans, lists, and desires. (And many of those lists pop into my head as I'm praying.) Yet at this moment I'm reminded,"Many are the plans of man's heart, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will prevail." Proverbs 19:20

I do want God's purpose to prevail in my life. I also want God's spirit bearing witness with my spirit. It is the Lord that produces all the good in my life. It is the Holy Spirit that produces all the good fruit in me and my life. The only way for that to happen is to move my worldly self right on out of the way.

It's like hiding behind a really big rock or maybe our beautiful home, my worldly possessions, my worldly desires all rolled into this one big colossal ball. There is no way for me to see around that big ball, and there's no way for God's light to shine on me if I'm hiding behind all my stuff. I'm attached to it you might say, valuing it more than God. Yet if I step around and away from my worldly ball, I can bask in the light of His love. I guess that's why I need to surrender daily. Each day I need to consider what I think my plans are and ask myself if they line up with what God would desire in my life - loving Him and loving my neighbor as myself. Do my plans involve pumping myself up or serving others with His love? God will reveal the answer if I ask. Then I need to step away from the world and towards God. He's there waiting for everyone who desires Him.

Dearest Lord, let me bask in your light. Let my humble, small life reflect You more and more each day. Let me daily look at my life and acknowledge the things and desires that stand between us. Help me to step away from the world and towards You. Lord, forgive me for the sin I do not see and the sins I do see and ignore. Thank you for not giving up on me when I forget lessons I've already learned. Let me draw closer to You each day. Amen.