Writing is comparable to coming home. Do you know what coming home feels like? It's familiar. It's comforting. It's the old and the new intertwined. It's love. It's belonging. I have had a busy heart in recent weeks. And home and belonging are just what I need tonight. So I invite you to sit next to me with your favorite mug in hand and your favorite scarf nestled just so. Sit here with me. And hear my heart. Sit here. And come home...
I am extremely nostalgic by nature. I root, and attach, and put out all the situational feelers. I put a large store by love, family, friendships, good food, hospitality, and, it must be said, pie. When I conjure up the holiday seasons to mind, I'm thinking all the Hallmark commercials you ever saw rolled into one. Reality is #oftenalmostnever like a commercial. No one rolls in at the perfect snowy, twinkling moment with the adorable kitten poised in a box holding an engagement ring while you wait with baited breath under the mistletoe, washed in a warm candlelight glow, while the strains of "The Way You Look Tonight" can be heard in the background. In fact. Rather. It looks like...a freezing rain storm that delayed plans, a mangy mutt that, in fact, ate the ring, no mistletoe (cuz does anyone put that up anymore? It's not 1873), the cold glow of the piercing, quite possibly blinding, latest model LED flashlight (since the power is out), and the crowning moment serenaded by "Enter Sandman" as the random playlist song of choice.
Yes. Nostalgia. Reality. Often I stumble between the two so casually, cautiously, catastrophically. I want all the dreams. I want all the bells and whistles. If time has taught me anything, I believe that it is summed up something like this, "Nothing will ever fully be as expected." You may find joy when you think you will find strife. You may find pain when you think you will find love. The hallways of life are not as picturesque as nostalgia would have us believe or as grey as reality would imply.
There is, perhaps, a place that marries the two in an equal union of sadness, beauty, and memory. Today I considered nostalgia and reality, and memory as always proved precious. As I have bumbled along the pathway, facing painful realities, nostalgia has been there. Bringing such treasured friends to ease the pain. Those imagined feelings and yearnings of belonging, acceptance and rootings. They have been extended to me time and again like an oasis for the soul. Friends, even now, that look directly into my blue eyes and see right through to places in my heart instead. These realities, dear readers, these are better than any nostalgia I can dream. I have shared many a seasonal meal surrounded by just these friends and my heart and eyes overflow with memories that cannot be contained.
Today, as you leave this spot by the fireplace, as you go with your mug and scarf, remember the treasure is what you make of the moments you have been given. I, of course, would always advise rooting and attaching to as many kindred spirits as you can find. But choose at least one. One person who can help you unite sometimes painful realities with joyous nostalgia. And when you are aged, when you can no longer make a logical word in Scrabble, I think the seasons of kindred spirits long past will come to mind. And your heart and eyes will not be able to contain the blessing.
Friday, November 25, 2016
Saturday, November 12, 2016
Ever In Peace
Today is the day we Americans honor veterans. Those persons that have sacrificially given their time, resources, mind, body, and spirit in dedication to this great nation. I can tell you firsthand that it is no easy task. Politics. Duty. Honor. Service. Questions. Right. Wrong. It can be very convoluted. But the soldier always answers the call.
I am married to a veteran. I remember well the day I sent him off to war. Our sweet babies did not understand, but as parents, our hearts ached. The flight was early and driving to the airport, it was dark. For which I was thankful. We had just celebrated a whirlwind 3 days together enjoying Thanksgiving and Christmas. Emotionally, I was spent. My eyes were dry, but every mile that moved us closer to our destination induced panic. What in the world was I going to do in the middle of Utah with two babies and no family support? It was the longest and shortest trip I've ever made to any airport. Security also was a breeze as if the TSA agents had pity on our little family. Again, amazingly, zero delays and the plane was here before we knew it.
You guys. I don't want to embarrass my sweet husband. But soldiers are people. With hearts. Just like ours. And when he took his sons in his arms. It was very hard for him to say goodbye. And he just had to abruptly go because I imagine there was just no other way. When he turned back at the gate, I saw his blue eyes had tears and I knew the personal cost was great because I had never seen him cry.
It was a hard, hard year. For him. And us. Once you experience this kind of painful separation where you cannot fully be briefed or understand what is transpiring, you begin to see why so many military marriages fail. There are multiple barriers to effective communication, and all the while life is happening on both ends. It is so tough for all the parties. I might have aged ten years. In one deployment. Imagine for multiple....
Reunion was the sweetest and oddest. I was so proud of us. We are not shrinking violets. No. We did this. We sent and received a beloved person. A soldier. A very tall soldier. Staff Sergeant Ryan Oldaker. Our personal cost was great. Ryan missed a year in the life of his children that he does not get back. Words. Milestones. Christmas. Easter. Gone without memory.
Now. Friends. When you, my fellow Americans, take it upon yourselves to demean democracy. To spew obscenities in your self righteous anger. To burn the stars and stripes. To riot. To refuse to acknowledge the results of said democracy. To dishonor the highest office of this land with your disrespect. You spit in my face. You spit in the faces of my children. You spit in the face of every person who has willingly laid down their life for your comfort.
If this is you. You should feel shame. You are not proving worthy of our sacrifice. Think long and hard about your actions. Think long and hard about your words. Choose to be honorable, respectful persons, even if you are uncertain about the future.
And then.... Walk outside. Take a look at Old Glory waving in the light.. The emblem of the land I love. Ever in peace may she wave...
I am married to a veteran. I remember well the day I sent him off to war. Our sweet babies did not understand, but as parents, our hearts ached. The flight was early and driving to the airport, it was dark. For which I was thankful. We had just celebrated a whirlwind 3 days together enjoying Thanksgiving and Christmas. Emotionally, I was spent. My eyes were dry, but every mile that moved us closer to our destination induced panic. What in the world was I going to do in the middle of Utah with two babies and no family support? It was the longest and shortest trip I've ever made to any airport. Security also was a breeze as if the TSA agents had pity on our little family. Again, amazingly, zero delays and the plane was here before we knew it.
You guys. I don't want to embarrass my sweet husband. But soldiers are people. With hearts. Just like ours. And when he took his sons in his arms. It was very hard for him to say goodbye. And he just had to abruptly go because I imagine there was just no other way. When he turned back at the gate, I saw his blue eyes had tears and I knew the personal cost was great because I had never seen him cry.
It was a hard, hard year. For him. And us. Once you experience this kind of painful separation where you cannot fully be briefed or understand what is transpiring, you begin to see why so many military marriages fail. There are multiple barriers to effective communication, and all the while life is happening on both ends. It is so tough for all the parties. I might have aged ten years. In one deployment. Imagine for multiple....
Reunion was the sweetest and oddest. I was so proud of us. We are not shrinking violets. No. We did this. We sent and received a beloved person. A soldier. A very tall soldier. Staff Sergeant Ryan Oldaker. Our personal cost was great. Ryan missed a year in the life of his children that he does not get back. Words. Milestones. Christmas. Easter. Gone without memory.
Now. Friends. When you, my fellow Americans, take it upon yourselves to demean democracy. To spew obscenities in your self righteous anger. To burn the stars and stripes. To riot. To refuse to acknowledge the results of said democracy. To dishonor the highest office of this land with your disrespect. You spit in my face. You spit in the faces of my children. You spit in the face of every person who has willingly laid down their life for your comfort.
If this is you. You should feel shame. You are not proving worthy of our sacrifice. Think long and hard about your actions. Think long and hard about your words. Choose to be honorable, respectful persons, even if you are uncertain about the future.
And then.... Walk outside. Take a look at Old Glory waving in the light.. The emblem of the land I love. Ever in peace may she wave...
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Longing. Chaos. Simplicity.
Readers....
I'm thinking about how to breathe right now. All I feel is turmoil in my heart today. I think this will be a tough week ahead. Locally. Nationally. It feels like the culture will make a dramatic shift in the coming months. There are also shifts, relationally, for many friends. I feel anxious. As if the place I knew I had is no longer. As if the ground is crumbling....
I spent the day with my youngest, who has an affinity for Panera, like myself, and so we went for lunch. As our eyes glazed over at the sights of pastries and all things heavenly baked, he surprised me with these words, "I'd really like to work here for a college job." To which I responded, "I'd really like to work here, too, or a place just like it."
It was a breath of fresh air.
Sweet simplicity amidst chaos.
What if we really just did simple things? The things we enjoy. Baking. Writing. Whatever name that pursuit has for you, what if you did that? Would you feel like the ground was crumbling? Would your relationships be shifting? Positively? It's something I'm considering.
I will never forget sitting on my Grandpa's lap as a child, in my favorite outfit consisting of a maroon "I'm a Pepper" shirt paired with a triple layered light pink skirt with blue flowers, having a career discussion. When asked what career path I wanted to choose, I responded with, "A McDonalds worker." I could sense complete bewilderment as he grappled with the right response mixing candor, love and guidance. Finally, all he could muster was, "Well, wouldn't you maybe want to aim just a little higher?"
Yes. Grandpa. I do.
But I see some positives in choosing some simplicity in life. Go to work. Bake some bread. Or punch some keys. Come home.
While waiting for our food, my son went on to say, "It would be nice, listen to this music, and help people, it would be good." He mentioned later in the conversation that his favorite song is, "Stressed Out." The lad is nine. I don't like the implication that someone so young should have a relatable context to stress.
So much chaos. So much stress. So many broken people. I feel so very anxious tonight. But. Once upon a time.... In very similar circumstances. Love pushed aside the curtain of heaven and cradled right in the heart of broken chaos. Love took a long journey of redemption because Angela was worth it.
Because every heart was worth it.
When I turn my eyes upon the Writer of my story. The One who knows the number of my days. The One who is from everlasting to everlasting. The I AM.
The ground stabilizes.
I see simplicity. Faith brings me simplicity. And it is the breath of air for which I have been gasping.
I'm thinking about how to breathe right now. All I feel is turmoil in my heart today. I think this will be a tough week ahead. Locally. Nationally. It feels like the culture will make a dramatic shift in the coming months. There are also shifts, relationally, for many friends. I feel anxious. As if the place I knew I had is no longer. As if the ground is crumbling....
I spent the day with my youngest, who has an affinity for Panera, like myself, and so we went for lunch. As our eyes glazed over at the sights of pastries and all things heavenly baked, he surprised me with these words, "I'd really like to work here for a college job." To which I responded, "I'd really like to work here, too, or a place just like it."
It was a breath of fresh air.
Sweet simplicity amidst chaos.
What if we really just did simple things? The things we enjoy. Baking. Writing. Whatever name that pursuit has for you, what if you did that? Would you feel like the ground was crumbling? Would your relationships be shifting? Positively? It's something I'm considering.
I will never forget sitting on my Grandpa's lap as a child, in my favorite outfit consisting of a maroon "I'm a Pepper" shirt paired with a triple layered light pink skirt with blue flowers, having a career discussion. When asked what career path I wanted to choose, I responded with, "A McDonalds worker." I could sense complete bewilderment as he grappled with the right response mixing candor, love and guidance. Finally, all he could muster was, "Well, wouldn't you maybe want to aim just a little higher?"
Yes. Grandpa. I do.
But I see some positives in choosing some simplicity in life. Go to work. Bake some bread. Or punch some keys. Come home.
While waiting for our food, my son went on to say, "It would be nice, listen to this music, and help people, it would be good." He mentioned later in the conversation that his favorite song is, "Stressed Out." The lad is nine. I don't like the implication that someone so young should have a relatable context to stress.
So much chaos. So much stress. So many broken people. I feel so very anxious tonight. But. Once upon a time.... In very similar circumstances. Love pushed aside the curtain of heaven and cradled right in the heart of broken chaos. Love took a long journey of redemption because Angela was worth it.
Because every heart was worth it.
When I turn my eyes upon the Writer of my story. The One who knows the number of my days. The One who is from everlasting to everlasting. The I AM.
The ground stabilizes.
I see simplicity. Faith brings me simplicity. And it is the breath of air for which I have been gasping.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Perspective is reality
Friends. It has been a very, very challenging week. Many intense days. Many intense moments.
*I am juggling new responsibilities at work which requires careful consideration and great wisdom. I'm not sure I've had all the right wisdom.
*Someone whom I have greatly admired as a writer has really let me down this week. It was like a sucker punch to see some of things she said.
This evening, just when I thought I could not actually physically proceed any further... Not really an exaggeration. I honestly had to really concentrate on what people were saying for my brain to follow through... And even then....
Just when I was going to sit down and give up. I received the sad news that my friend had unexpectedly passed away today.
Suddenly, I didn't think too harshly of my performance this week. Suddenly, I was not tired anymore. Suddenly, I could embrace finding a new mentor. Suddenly.
My perspective switched gears. As I looked back on the week, I saw the highlights. I had THREE nights at home with my family which included, watching Big Hero 5 waddle the neighborhood which was hilarious. I saw an older brother show great compassion in waiting at each house for said hero guy to catch up, despite his best friend joining up with us, but constantly running ahead. More than once this week, someone encouraged me through touch. As much as I love words, sometimes, they are simply not necessary. Sometimes just a quick squeeze stimulates the parasympathetic system and that's all you need. Good things were still all around me.
I'm thinking of my sweet friend in heaven... I'm thinking that each day and year that passes finds me with one more person waiting on that swing under the tree. I hope it's big enough. And, friends, be assured if I should arrive before you, I'll definitely be waiting, anxiously, to see your face once again.
PS - My friend was always encouraging me to wear red lipstick. She was certain I could pull it off. She also raved about me having dark hair. So, for you, sweet friend... I'm going to do it.
*I am juggling new responsibilities at work which requires careful consideration and great wisdom. I'm not sure I've had all the right wisdom.
*Someone whom I have greatly admired as a writer has really let me down this week. It was like a sucker punch to see some of things she said.
This evening, just when I thought I could not actually physically proceed any further... Not really an exaggeration. I honestly had to really concentrate on what people were saying for my brain to follow through... And even then....
Just when I was going to sit down and give up. I received the sad news that my friend had unexpectedly passed away today.
Suddenly, I didn't think too harshly of my performance this week. Suddenly, I was not tired anymore. Suddenly, I could embrace finding a new mentor. Suddenly.
My perspective switched gears. As I looked back on the week, I saw the highlights. I had THREE nights at home with my family which included, watching Big Hero 5 waddle the neighborhood which was hilarious. I saw an older brother show great compassion in waiting at each house for said hero guy to catch up, despite his best friend joining up with us, but constantly running ahead. More than once this week, someone encouraged me through touch. As much as I love words, sometimes, they are simply not necessary. Sometimes just a quick squeeze stimulates the parasympathetic system and that's all you need. Good things were still all around me.
I'm thinking of my sweet friend in heaven... I'm thinking that each day and year that passes finds me with one more person waiting on that swing under the tree. I hope it's big enough. And, friends, be assured if I should arrive before you, I'll definitely be waiting, anxiously, to see your face once again.
PS - My friend was always encouraging me to wear red lipstick. She was certain I could pull it off. She also raved about me having dark hair. So, for you, sweet friend... I'm going to do it.
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