It's my birthday today, so it seems fitting to start the day with the statement, "The older I get..".
It's also fitting that I begin with my favorite thing. Writing.
It's early on a Saturday morning, I'm sitting in bed with my usual TERRIBLE bedhead. (Am I the only one that has serious hair issues in the morning - it's EVERYWHERE. Look at Christmas photos dating back to 1983, when I first had hair, and you'll see the pattern. Bless the people who see me first thing in the morning and still love me.) Piles of blankets and a big fluffy scarf are my closest allies, and the house is quiet. I think my husband might be making me coffee. And breakfast. I'm not sure. But I think. And, yes, if you are keeping score, he will earn meaningless brownies points for these actions.
Shall we begin?
The older I get....
1) I see so much value in understanding yourself.
In being fully aware of the strengths and weaknesses you possess. When you are able to name the good and bad, your contributions increase. For example, I know for a fact that I am very hard on myself. I will almost never be satisfied with the work of my hands, because I could have always, always done at least one, or twenty, things better. Being cognizant, I can plan steps to lessen the impact of meeting less than my own expectation, noting that being satisfied with a little less is better than a complete breakdown. On the flip side, without a doubt, put me in charge of spelling and writing all the things, cooking and canning for a group, and loving people, and I will absolutely shine. (At least from YOUR standards... See the first example.) Know yourself. Be yourself.
2) I see that pain gives birth to pain.
I'm sure I've said it before, I do not have the corner on suffering, but I am also not immune to the deep, dark roots of anguish, anger, and bitterness. Someone in pain, caused me pain. It was life changing and not for the better. The cycle perpetuates all over this great nation, and all over humanity. We decry the perpetuation all the while stirring up the pot ourselves. Humanity loves to pass along our opinions and feelings and angst, loving the reaction it brings. Naturally we all assume we do not want to increase crimes of hatred, but it is all in the small details. The little words here and there. The planting of seeds in the mind. And it all stirs up to big things. Painful, life changing events that people perpetuate. Be someone who stops pain. End a cycle with you. Because. Maybe. Love gives birth to love.
3) I am consistently amazed at entitlement.
As a CNA, I have wiped just about all of the bodily fluids from a variety of sources. I have cleaned up vomit, diarrhea, garbage, blood, urine, and the like. There is not one job I can think of that I feel I am above. I would work at McDonalds. I would be a school janitor. I look around me and all I see are people who think they should not have to do this and that. I have X number of educational degrees, why would I be the one? I have X amount of seniority, why would I be the one? I. I. I. My father recently retired after working 46 years at a grocery store. He did not have a college degree or many accolades,a simple man by the world's standards. But, with dedication and humility he served this company, that did not always treat him well, with his life. He worked with fruits and vegetables for 46 years. With respect. With humility. Without entitlement. His example shaped me. Readers, I hope you have the same example. If not, note this one. Stop being entitled. You do not deserve anything. Regardless. You should work hard at whatever task you see right before you. Always.
4) Beauty is around us and God is near.
I always wondered why "old" people talked about the weather so much. I'm beginning to understand. I appreciate more, with each passing year, the seasons and patterns. The colors of fall are so magnificent and I'm grateful to be back in the land of trees. Growing things - plants, flowers is such a joy. The grass that needs cut every week is lush, soft and beautiful. The beauty we are given is evidence that God is near. He knows about the pain cycle. He knows we ache and hurt at this life. When we look out the window at the big puffy flakes of snow, we can't help but smile. A little message of hope and love from the God who loves you. He says, "I am here. Unchanging as the seasons. Like the sub zero weather that hangs on for four months every.single.year I am constant." He gives us beauty in exchange for the ashes of our lives. He gives us beauty to see. He gives us beauty in the form of people he places in our lives. God is near, readers. Immanuel. Thankful.
On this day, I'm thankful for each of you joining me on this blogging journey. It brings me so much joy and you are a part of that.
Thank you.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Friday, January 13, 2017
Seasons With Pancakes
Do you ever crave pancakes? I'm sitting in a quiet house, it's late, a familiar Julia Roberts film is playing in the background, and I'm craving pancakes. Pancakes are the syrupy, pillow-ey equivalent to happiness.
Happiness can be elusive, as are pancakes at this hour. I'm sorry about both those things.
Tonight. My heart is longing. I'm so lonely. Have you ever been lonely? Have you ever been in a room full of people and felt entirely alone? Do you long to look across and lock eyes that know you? Wordless communication is my favorite. A simple look and a message is exchanged. Do you think it's possible to survive with half a heart? With half a heart that feels like two quarters held together by tape and glue? Sometimes my heart feels that way.
Oh, for the most part, everything is fine. I carry on about the daily business of living. I go to work. I listen to all the complaints. And there are ever so many. On all sides. I come home and offer support and encouragement to the men I'm raising. I make dinner. I do laundry. I check dates off the calendar. All the while, there are little holes in my heart that ache. This is the process of grief. It ebbs and flows. It rises and falls. We live and we ache. We cry and we laugh.
The season of parting seems never ending and yet, quick. Have four years past? Or two? Ten? Do you feel that time stands still or speeds up? The layers of life bury the ache, but it spills over from time to time and the past years of coping disappear completely.
I miss you, my beloveds. You cannot be replaced. Your value is immeasurable. I'm content to eat my sensitive feelers and mourn your loss.
Maybe one day I'll look up and see you. If only in my imagination. Our eyes will meet. Your heart will recognize mine. And happiness, however fleeting, will be ours to hold.
Happiness can be elusive, as are pancakes at this hour. I'm sorry about both those things.
Tonight. My heart is longing. I'm so lonely. Have you ever been lonely? Have you ever been in a room full of people and felt entirely alone? Do you long to look across and lock eyes that know you? Wordless communication is my favorite. A simple look and a message is exchanged. Do you think it's possible to survive with half a heart? With half a heart that feels like two quarters held together by tape and glue? Sometimes my heart feels that way.
Oh, for the most part, everything is fine. I carry on about the daily business of living. I go to work. I listen to all the complaints. And there are ever so many. On all sides. I come home and offer support and encouragement to the men I'm raising. I make dinner. I do laundry. I check dates off the calendar. All the while, there are little holes in my heart that ache. This is the process of grief. It ebbs and flows. It rises and falls. We live and we ache. We cry and we laugh.
The season of parting seems never ending and yet, quick. Have four years past? Or two? Ten? Do you feel that time stands still or speeds up? The layers of life bury the ache, but it spills over from time to time and the past years of coping disappear completely.
I miss you, my beloveds. You cannot be replaced. Your value is immeasurable. I'm content to eat my sensitive feelers and mourn your loss.
Maybe one day I'll look up and see you. If only in my imagination. Our eyes will meet. Your heart will recognize mine. And happiness, however fleeting, will be ours to hold.
Friday, January 6, 2017
January
January is well on its way.
I love January and not because it houses the best Facebook day of the year (read: my birthday).
I love January for its calm.
No one makes a lot of plans. There are no school concerts or events because, frankly, the schools also "can't even" at this point. Corporations decide you must restrict your working hours. These are all good things.
The rest I have so longed for is here.
A week in and I've had ever so many chats with my children. One very interesting one that involved me getting a baby sister here sometime soon, to which I replied, you'd better start asking Jesus for that today because Mommy is getting old. I instantly regretted my choice of words, because this is just the type of thing Jesus might use to build a child's faith. I was then directed that the baby sister should be adopted and be in preschool, so as to avoid all that baby stuff, "unless you really want to because I know you love all the babies."
I will pause to say, Friends, dear readers, I'm so known. And I love that. There is nothing more special than being known. It means you are loved. Someone has listened. Someone has cared enough to retain. Someone knows you. Someone loves you. Treasure that in the quiet places of your soul.
Adding a baby sister is not in any of my plans. But our carefully laid plans are in the hand of a Father who adores us and wants to give us good things this year, and every year. I am almost eye level with one such good thing, and it overwhelms me. So soon he grew. So quickly he is passing on his way. I'm thankful for January. I'm thankful for quieter days to enjoy my good things.
All the best things, as you should already know, all the best and good things are people. The people in your life are just waiting to eat all the Mr. Goodbar and race camels with you. And maybe a baby sister. But especially just with you, the person who is already here and loved.
January is calm.
Use it wisely. Rest well. Relate well. And I am sure that this will better lift any despondency, and "post holiday blues," and "seasonal angst" that January is most known for.
Um. And it's my birthday. So. It's pertinent that I share for the record, in case you may have missed it in any prior social media post or blog, my primary love language is gifts. But. I am also specially qualified to adhere to all 5...so, there's that. Alright. You've got options.
I love January and not because it houses the best Facebook day of the year (read: my birthday).
I love January for its calm.
No one makes a lot of plans. There are no school concerts or events because, frankly, the schools also "can't even" at this point. Corporations decide you must restrict your working hours. These are all good things.
The rest I have so longed for is here.
A week in and I've had ever so many chats with my children. One very interesting one that involved me getting a baby sister here sometime soon, to which I replied, you'd better start asking Jesus for that today because Mommy is getting old. I instantly regretted my choice of words, because this is just the type of thing Jesus might use to build a child's faith. I was then directed that the baby sister should be adopted and be in preschool, so as to avoid all that baby stuff, "unless you really want to because I know you love all the babies."
I will pause to say, Friends, dear readers, I'm so known. And I love that. There is nothing more special than being known. It means you are loved. Someone has listened. Someone has cared enough to retain. Someone knows you. Someone loves you. Treasure that in the quiet places of your soul.
Adding a baby sister is not in any of my plans. But our carefully laid plans are in the hand of a Father who adores us and wants to give us good things this year, and every year. I am almost eye level with one such good thing, and it overwhelms me. So soon he grew. So quickly he is passing on his way. I'm thankful for January. I'm thankful for quieter days to enjoy my good things.
All the best things, as you should already know, all the best and good things are people. The people in your life are just waiting to eat all the Mr. Goodbar and race camels with you. And maybe a baby sister. But especially just with you, the person who is already here and loved.
January is calm.
Use it wisely. Rest well. Relate well. And I am sure that this will better lift any despondency, and "post holiday blues," and "seasonal angst" that January is most known for.
Um. And it's my birthday. So. It's pertinent that I share for the record, in case you may have missed it in any prior social media post or blog, my primary love language is gifts. But. I am also specially qualified to adhere to all 5...so, there's that. Alright. You've got options.
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