Lasagna Tuesdays

Sunday evenings. Time for reflection.  I think if I lived near to my family, it would be the best time of the week for gathering and visiting.

I often imagine what my life would be like if I lived near to my family.  Wouldn't it be lovely to invite someone over for a meal on Tuesday?   What if the kids could have routine sleepovers with their cousins? What if we could do the annual hiking spree?  What if I could eat an occasional chicken dinner or hit up The Hartville Kitchen  for a legit meal?

How has the life I provided for my children been different - has it been better or worse by living all over?   Time is always on my mind these days, each day seems to be precious and fleeting.  I don't think I am spending nearly enough time with loved ones.  I feel it in my soul.  I'm almost to the "old" generation.  The generation I remember so clearly as all my cousins graduated and I was last.  The "aunts and uncles" generation.  The "adults" who manage and run the funerals.  That's me.  I'm the adult. I'm the middle aging one.  My nephews and nieces are graduating and moving out/on.  It's too late for cousin sleepovers.

Every time I look at Noah, he seems taller.  He is becoming so lanky - all legs like his father. All traces of childhood boy are gone.  How can it be?  He is taller than me which makes it difficult for me to say "Get over here and hug your Mom." I can reach into the past and hold baby Noah close.  I smell his sweet baby smell. I hear his little voice.

Aaron is himself graduating from elementary in a few weeks.  Off to middle school.  Out of his mother's heart and into puberty.  Say it isn't so.  Say we'll stay in this moment.  Say we'll go back to "Chee" baby and  monkey boy who as a toddler would routinely climb to the top of the swing set.

It's okay that we have made a life where we found ourselves planted. We have made wonderful memories with many people in many parts of the world.  A sign of being in the aged group is talking woefully about reaching into the past.  But another sign of being in the aged group is that you realize how precious is time and how precious is memory.  You decide to do and not dream.  You invite friends for lasagna on Tuesday.  ( Although they are not nearly as likely to attend as, say, your sister would.)  You go on the vacation you talk about.  You have a bonfire and s'mores because you want to.

In the end, life is what you make it. You can dream and wonder.  And you can do.

I'm grateful to be in the "aunts and uncles" generation - the one I remember observing - because it means I now have the means to do.

Scrabble Mondays.  Lasagna Tuesdays.  Bonfire Wednesdays. Concert Thursdays. Baseball Fridays.

Let's make some memories this year!

Parking Lot Couch

I learned something about myself. Or, rather, I finally admitted something.

I never feel more alone in this life than when I am in a sea of women.

I feel sad, awkward, and lonely.

I paid $30 to attend a women's conference at church.  As a team leader I felt like I needed to support the initiative.  Further, I felt like I should be trying to make some friends. Finally, I thought I might receive encouragement from God.

I stayed for 60 minutes.  Guess where I am? Sitting in my car in a random parking lot.  "Talk to your neighbor and be vulnerable about this first session" they said.

Nope. No. Seriously no.

That is not my bag.

I feel deeply. I embrace authenticity. But do not tell me to get "touchy feely" with a table of strange women. Even if they love Jesus.

I've tried the group of women thing many times, but the truth is, I don't acclimate.  I can't participate.  I have nothing remarkable to say.  I grow increasingly uncomfortable as this knowledge settles in my soul.  I'm a people person so it feels painful. I can firmly and pleasantly hold my own in just about any other social situation you would throw at me.

Because I like to diagnose everything, I'm trying to determine why I'm having such a strong reaction.  Does it really matter that I'm more a 1:3orless ratio person?  The answer is no.  If it makes me uncomfortable and unhappy, I should not feel as though I have to do it.

But guess what.  I do.  I feel it is outlined somewhere that good Christian ladies are required to gather and do these types of things. It appears that everyone is enjoying it. I look around and there is abandon and joy on each face, and it is all I can do to remain rooted in my spot and not dash for the door.  (Except this time I did. And I have loved Jesus since I was 7.)  I have a difficult time when I believe I fall outside expected guidelines; the ingrained pressure I feel to perform as expected in all things is an elephant on my chest. "Angela, I'm sure God wants you to attend this conference" and off I go, never mind that I have been dreading it for weeks.

Ladies (Christian and not) love to get together.  They love it.  I've witnessed it time and again. They pour wine, they talk, they complain, they celebrate, they love; and they are so very anxious to plan the next event.  They find themselves in a group and I lose myself.  Why am I an anomaly?  I want to want to do that, in any of the capacities I'm speaking of.  But if you watch closely....I'm sitting at the back or the edge, I'm quiet and reserved, I am uncomfortable. 

Right now. Today.  I am going to be okay with this. I will no longer put myself where I cannot thrive.  I love the people and if they love me they will understand.

I know that God understands.  Because the best part of my faith is that it is personal.  It's a close relationship with the creator of the stars.  My interaction isn't required to be corporate. I don't have to go to someone else in order to reach Him.  He is right here.  As close as my next breath.  And He rejoices over me - look for it - that is in the Bible.  Maybe He even whispered, "It's okay to run, Ang, you gave it a try, and I'm proud of you."

This is the kind of faith you can put stock in. You don't have to be showy. You don't have to earn it (thank goodness because I just fell short).  God is close.  He is so close, friends.  He comes to the groups and he comes to the one. He is cheering for you on this journey.  He longs to love and rejoice over you just as you are.  A struggle bus party of one who sits outside Price Chopper. 

It's a good takeaway as we head into the weekend....   And He isn't the only one.  I thrive in those small, intimate groups.  I'd be happy to sit with you in the parking lot and figure it out...