Grumpy Mom

I feel a little bitter. And a little angry. Yes, thank you, now who can I take this out on?

My daughter K is on the varsity volleyball team. I wanted her to play club volleyball in the spring so she could keep up her skills and learn new ones. I also thought it would help her when she played this year. And it was hard, but she did it! And she was good at it. Then, when she made varsity volleyball last spring, I was really happy for her...

...until last weekend. I didn't go to the volleyball tournament on Friday, and she apparently got to play some. However, I went on Saturday, and she didn't play at all. At all. There were a few other girls that didn't either.

And as a mother, my protective instincts are showing up, in my head anyway.

"Do you realize how GOOD she is?"
"She was one of the star players on club!"
"She's very consistent and she has a great attitude."
"How much do I pay for her to be on this team again?"
"Are you crazy, why are you not putting her in?"

And it goes progressively downhill from there. How easy it is for our circumstances to rule our emotional well-being. I just want to be RIGHT. I just want to get MY WAY. And get OUT OF THE WAY if you mess with my kid, OKAY?

This is what she got as the response when she asked about why she wasn't playing:

"You're an underclassman."
"You're not quite as powerful as the other right-handed hitter."
"We have three right-handed hitters and I can only sub one in per game."

GRRR. Yes. I need grace. I need mercy. I need the gospel.

Two weeks of crazy

The last two weeks have been a maelstrom of activity. I like that word, maelstrom. It reminds me of that ride at Disneyworld in the Norwegian land, in Epcot. It's such a silly ride but we always go because we just want to stop walking! Epcot is one of the largest parks there, after all.

Anyway, I'm going to detail out a list of our family's activity.

Sunday, August 12 - church, dinner with M and K - sort of our last dinner as a family before M moved out.
The week of Aug 13 - Volleyball two-a-days all week.
Monday, August 13 - M moved out to her new place. It's a condo, and she's staying with one of her friends from her first year of college who I love, and whose family I love. Then, K also invited some friends to spend the night, so we went to Taziki's and ate and then went bowling. Fun times!
Tuesday, August 14 -  dinner with Beth and her girls, then painting pictures for fun.
Thursday, August 16 - Dessert night and the last night of summer bible study! Read "Girls Gone Wise" which sounds a little sketchy but had some really good, biblically-based truths. You can get it at this link.
Friday, August 17 - My friend Lynn's 40th birthday party! We had a spend-the-night gig at Amanda's and went out to Fig for appetizers. We even did a shot with some whipped cream vodka. We also played a board game based on Awkward Family Photos. Lots of giggling with hilarious women.
Saturday, August 18 - Went four wheeling for the first time in my life with my boyfriend and his daughter. Then went out for dinner and watched the third Bourne movie. What a great day!
Monday, August 20 - First day of 10th grade for K. What? WHAT?! We also found a rug and duvet cover for her room while bargain shopping that day. Woot woot!
Thursday, August 23 - took some soup to M, who was under the weather, and it was only the second day of class for her. She is a trooper.
Friday, August 24 - Worked at a Habitat For Humanity house for the first time in my life. Got to use a nail gun to put in window casings, then built some window casings with a miter saw and a table saw. We met the homeowner, Earlene Jemison, who was adorable. It was an amazing day but man was I wiped afterward!
Saturday, August 25 - K's first volleyball tournament. She didn't play at all (on Sat, she did play on Friday, but I played hooky that day). We then went shopping and headed towards our friends' the Ditoros for a book club event. Delicious food and a bloody mary to boot!

So...not much time to write. Only a little time to think. But good, clean fun. Well, the four wheeling was a little dirty...

Marriage and its Seeming Impossibleness

As someone who has been single for ten years, I think about marriage a lot. And not in a "27 Dresses" kind of way.

I've already posted about men and women and their roles.
I've already talked about how I'm an unexpected single mom.

But I haven't talked about how hard my marriage was at times, and how I've seen this reflected in other marriages. I haven't talked about our Sunday School class that we're in right now that is NOT ABOUT MARRIAGE (the elders repeat this over and over, it makes me laugh) but is rather about men and women. There are constant refrains in the lessons, though, and one of them is that we are sanctified through marriage. Sanctified. Big theological word. I define it as being made holy. Here's a post about sanctification, from ligonier.org, RC Sproul's ministry. It mentions the Westminster Shorter Catechism definition, which says "sanctification is “the work of God’s free grace, whereby we are renewed in the whole man after the image of God, and are enabled more and more to die unto sin, and live unto righteousness.”

I never understood that marital strife was common when I was married. Back then, I thought those tough times during marriage happened only to me. I thought I was long-suffering in some cases, and in others, I was not very good at being a partner. I thought it was about compromise. And I did think that we lost pieces of ourselves in marriage, but it was for the greater purpose of the family.

"How strange," I think, now. "Did I even understand anything?" I puzzle and grieve over my own sin pretty much every day. If you don't get the idea of sin and total depravity right, any humility you have will be false. And, you will not get it when you see your own sin staring back at you in an argument that you didn't start.

Here are some issues I didn't see that could help with my sanctification:
Moodiness. It happens to one of you, and the other has to deal with it.
Disagreements over _____ (money, raising kids, how to fold clothes, name it). One of you must be right, don't you think?
Not being enough to make the other person feel better. Isn't that what love is?
Temper. Enough said.
What are you saying? Sometimes you're just on two different wavelengths.
Body language that is so obviously saying something. No, I didn't just roll my eyes.
Foot in mouth disease. Did I just put you down, and in front of others? That's not what I meant.

Any of this sound familiar? It takes me back to how absolutely human I was. How human I still am. Just because I understand sin a little better (thanks to the Holy Spirit) doesn't mean that I won't fall prey to these thought patterns now. (yes, I know that was a double negative, get over it).

I've been exposed to people going through marital difficulties for the past four years. I've listened to them, talked with them about how they're acting, feeling, and reacting. I even spent some time recently with a non-believing couple. Boy, that was impossible for me to know what to say. After all, with all of the aforementioned issues, how is marriage supposed to thrive? The simple answer is that it's almost impossible without the gospel.

I don't claim to be a marital counselor. However, I also know that it takes two people in a marriage. It's usually one that wants to leave. Before it gets to that point, this is some of what I've learned that I didn't apply to my own marriage:

• Marriage is not for you to be happy. It is designed to be God-glorifying, so He must come first.
• It is designed to sanctify you.
• Marriage is NOT supposed to be easy. Two sinners living in a fishbowl, and all that.
• There should be compromise in marriage, but ultimately, there should be one person that is held accountable for the decision-making. Yes, it's the man. So, marry someone who will make decisions you can support.
• God makes things right. Not you. Listen to Him.

Here's another interesting point: I'm still being sanctified as a divorced Christian. To God be the glory.

The Fence

I've had sort of an emotional couple of weeks and haven't blogged about them. It's difficult to know where to start. So, I think I'll avoid the most personal topics and go to one that addresses something very public but also reveals my heart.

In the last couple of weeks, there was a furor on Facebook over Chick Fil A. I have friends on both sides of the fence so I saw a lot of divided posts. It's actually kind of funny, looking back. However, last week, I just got plain tired of it all. Frankly, I read too much.

Just to link to a few of the pertinent articles from some of the "chick fil a sucks" side:

http://matthewpaulturner.net/blog/5-reasons-why-the-church-failed-yesterday/?wpmp_tp=0
http://oddmanout.net/post/28484026012/chick-fil-activism
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/08/01/chick-fil-a-anti-gay-controversy-employees-speak-out_n_1729968.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&src=sp&comm_ref=false#sb=3151290,b=facebook
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/conor-gaughan/chick-fil-a-homophobia_b_1711566.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&src=sp&comm_ref=false

Then, the articles from the "chick fil a rocks" side:
http://www.grbc.net/blog/2012/08/01/why-i-plan-to-eat-at-chick-fil-a-today/
http://www.dennyburk.com/two-lies-about-chick-fil-a-perpetuated-in-the-media/
http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2012/07/in-defense-of-eating-at-chick-fil-a/260139/#.UBAtOA2J9ZE.facebook
Then you have those that counseled both sides:
http://rachelheldevans.com/chick-fil-a#.UBn0r_PJLRk.facebook

In reviewing the posts/articles, you might notice a common theme. The first side categorizes ChickFilA's stance as anti-human-rights, anti-church, anti-gay. The second side categorizes it as pro-family, pro-free-speech, pro-tolerance. Yes, I said pro-tolerance. So what's the common theme? For the most part, each side didn't necessarily argue against each other. They argued points to support what they wanted to believe and didn't acknowledge the fallacies in the positions they supported. The whole thing frustrated me, but it also made me wonder which side I was actually on.

First, as a Christian who holds scripture as God-breathed and inerrant (all of it, not parts of it), I uphold that marriage is between a man and a woman. It's clear in Genesis and in 1 Corinthians, amongst other scripture. It's not my words, but God's words. I have wrestled and wrestled about my attitudes towards gays. I have a dear wonderful close friend who is gay. I have other acquaintances that are gay. Some are Christians. Some might question how gay people can be Christian, but then I remember that my own sin colors everything I do and I am in Jesus' family; how is my sin less than theirs? The answers on how Christians should treat gay people are not pat by any means. Regardless, getting back to marriage, I think Dan Cathy's comments were meant to support scripture. I think his wording was carefully chosen. He said, " 'We are very much supportive of the family -- the biblical definition of the family unit,' he said. 'We are a family-owned business, a family-led business, and we are married to our first wives. We give God thanks for that.' " Quite frankly, I could be offended; I'm not married to my first spouse. I also think without the Holy Spirit, his wording would be seen as hate-filled. I completely agreed with the Atlantic when the editor asks, "Do we really want our commercial lives and our political lives to be so wholly intermeshed? And is this really the kind of culture we want to create?"

But then I saw the glut of posts from my friends in the Christian south. And I have to admit, I started to get a little frustrated. Partly because I was wondering if they were supporting a business, or really trying to support scripture? And my problem with the latter was, do these people actually go to church more than they go to Chick Fil A and tithe to it, support it, love it? Christ loved the church! Let's brag about our churches first, and a fast food restaurant maybe 10th. I also read a bit more and realized that Chick Fil A contributes to organizations that link gays to pedophiles. That just bothers me.

Quite frankly, I like Chick Fil A's food. I like their clean restaurants. I like their service. If they give money to those types of groups, shame on them. But I'd bet Disney, which I also love, gives money to groups that I don't support either.

Yeah, I'm not sure which side of the fence I'm on, exactly. I don't necessarily support any of these "political" groups. I want to get to the idols in my own heart and stop trying to be right all the time...I want to love the Lord Jesus with all my heart and go from there.

And, in other news, the Olympics, which is supposed to model peace and unity across the nations, goes on in London.

The Agony and the Ecstasy of Parenting

Last week, I spent a week getting to know my nieces. One is 6, the other is two weeks old. The thing that shocked me was the pang I felt in caring for them. I helped my six-year-old niece with taking showers. I sat with her as she ate her meals. I played in the sprinkler with her and also played with her in the park. We made a craft box together. With my baby niece, I held her, kissed her, and even fed her from a bottle (she is breast fed so that was a little unusual). I observed, observed, observed. And reminisced.

I'm overwhelmed right now as I write this. My babies aren't quite grown. But it's been a long time since I did anything like this with either of them. And you miss it. You don't think you will because for crying out loud, it's hard work. But the sweetness of their desire for you to pay attention is not quite as pronounced when they get older. I don't have to tie shoelaces anymore. Or buckle seatbelts. Or make sure they've wiped properly (sorry). I don't have to comfort them in the middle of the night when there's a bad dream. Or be their girl scout troop leader. Or go to New Orleans on a field trip. I don't argue with them about their Limited Too purchases anymore. I don't force feed them with vegetables, or withhold dessert. I don't have daily devotions with them, or coach them in catechism memorization. I don't have to wake them up in the morning, or lock them in their room at night (a story for another day). No more spankings, or teaching them about how to put things away.

Instead, we talk. We laugh. We watch TV or movies. We discuss God's sovereignty. We discuss relationships. I'm teaching one to learn how to drive. The other is learning about how many boxes of checks to take to her summer job. I still discipline, at least the youngest one. I still nag. I still worry. still pray. Maybe I pray even more now. My friend Bonnie sent me this blogpost last summer, which I found very comforting.

A lot of times, I'm glad that I don't have to worry about the day to day caregiving anymore. However, sometimes this stuff really hits me.

A weekend in Fort Walton

Last weekend, K and I went to visit M in Fort Walton. She's there for the summer, working with Summer Beach Project, a Christian organization that takes college students and prepares them to evangelize, disciple, and fellowship with others while working at a place to earn their keep. I have to admit when I heard about it I was pretty excited. First, it would get M out of town. Going to college in the same town she grew up in was not exactly what M wanted, but I was happy about. Still, I understood the need to get away from home because I'd done the same thing. I needed the space to spread my wings, if you want to get really cliched about it. Next, some of the people that have been to Summer Beach Project in the past were people that I respect and love. I was really hoping she would meet other believers that would encourage her and she could learn from. Finally, she'd get to work at a fast food restaurant...at least that's what I hoped, anyway, not because I'm a cruel and unfeeling parent, but because it's real life. It's a way of learning service, hard work, and dealing with people who aren't very nice.

Well, it's turned out kind of like I'd prayed about. She's working at Whataburger. Her bosses are nice but firm. She has three cute Christian roommates. She is on her own, figuring out how to visit doctors, do her own laundry, and live her own life. She has four, yeah, count em, four nights of meetings with people in the group doing a variety of bible studies, praying, and/or fellowshipping. She is really, really independent. Wait. Is this what I really wanted?

K and I drove down on Friday and returned on Sunday. In between...we reunited with our beloved M. We got to see her working at Whataburger, and I snapped pictures and video like she was a celebrity. She is a good, hard worker there and two of her bosses told me so. One of them said he was hoping she would work for years, but she doesn't seem that interested in a long-term commitment. LOL. She worked in the morning, and then in the afternoon, we walked out of her little apartment and then we were right on the beach. K is like a fish so she headed out into the red-flag waves. M sat with me and we talked about her work, her friends, and what she's learned. Their dad showed up, too, which you'd think might be awkward but it wasn't. He sat with M for a while, swam a bit with K, and then walked with them to a pier. He really cares about what they think. K said it was really good for him to just spend time with the two of them; she said he sometimes "gets tired," or worn down, from the little ones he also has.

We then went back to the hotel to get ready for the evening. I decided to leave to let the ex get ready, and K and I went to the pool. We were then accosted by a housekeeper, and she accused us of being too young to go to the pool by ourselves, but I looked her in the eye and said, "I'm over 18." Talk about aggressive, right? While getting ready, we all shared memories of being at the beach together and even before then, which again, wasn't awkward. Really, at this point, I was realizing the beauty of grace and forgiveness. We left, headed towards the evening program from SBP, but got misdirected twice. We gave up and went to eat. Their dad left after that.

The next day, we went to church with M, had lunch with her and her bestie down there, and left. What a neat feeling to go to church and realizing she was being ministered to by another congregation. It made me appreciate what our job should be at my own church. How sweet it is to be a part of the growth of young, impressionable, adults. It was a great, wonderful, weekend.

Dad's Memories

I spent some time with my Dad this weekend. Since it was just me and my parents, I took the opportunity to ask them some questions about their lives.

Dad said his father was a bit of a lazy guy. He didn't do much and really didn't know how to take care of himself very well; he was swindled by business partners and lost a good bit of money. His grandfather, though, was a smart guy. Dad doesn't remember how he passed away; apparently he died when my dad was very small. My dad's favorite foods were idli, sambar, and chicken. He lived, after second grade, with his aunt and uncle. He said he didn't ask for much, since he had to take what he was given. He said he pretty much lived his life that way in India, and didn't learn to speak up for himself until he went to college.

Dad went to graduate school at Duke University. He got his PhD there. When he came over from India, he had a room in dorm, and he roomed with a guy named Jeff Hoyt. As far as food went, when he went to restaurants, he only really recognized hard-boiled eggs. So he ate those every day with milk the first few weeks. Apparently that gave him a good bit of discomfort (gee, wonder why). So his roommate Jeff took him out and ordered steaks. "How am I supposed to eat this, Jeff?" Dad asked. "With a knife and fork!" Jeff replied. Jeff apparently is an administrator at a high school in Massachusetts, now.

Dad said one day, he found a wallet in a bathroom at Duke. It had a driver's license and $60. A lot of money in those days, around 1966. My dad said he found the number of the guy from a secretary, and called him up and told him that he had the wallet. The guy, another graduate student, met my Dad at his dorm and spent two hours talking with him. He shook my dad's hand when he left. Jeff was sitting there, watching my dad, in amazement. "I thought kids from India just took money they found because they were so poor!" Dad said, "Well, it wasn't mine." My dad thinks that really made an impression on Jeff, because the next semester, they both decided to live together in an apartment off-campus because it was cheaper. Unfortunately, Jeff ended up leaving Duke after that first year because he was drafted.

Dad likes to tell the story about how he went to a diner with a friend named Dick Stevenson. The diner had a sign posted, "whites only." He apparently didn't understand and went in to eat with his friend. He was promptly escorted out, and thankfully, his friend left too.

I didn't realize that he had to work to pay for the dorm and apartment. Apparently, his job was to take measurements of rooms for the School of Engineering. They did that as a job? He was paid $1.25 an hour. He said that was good money. He worked with his friend Paramesh and also with Dick.

He went fishing with Paramesh and Dick one weekend. I asked if he'd gone fishing much in India. "No way, that's low class in India. You hire people to do that. People would look at you like you were crazy if you said you went to fish!"

Dad got his first driving lesson from a country guy named Bill (I think). Bill took Dad out, first thing, on the interstate. "You're 30 years old! You should be able to do this!" Bill said. Dad had driven 20 mph, max, in India, and started getting nervous after a while. Bill let Dad pull over after that. Later, Dad somehow scraped enough money together ($250) to buy his first car. It was a Chevrolet Biscayne, didn't get great gas mileage, but it was a set of wheels. He bought it from a priest. He figured it must have been a good deal since it came from a priest.