Lost!

I recently woke up in the middle of the night and sat straight up in bed. If someone had been watching it would have been really spooky, I imagine. I guess that would be doubly spooky because I sleep alone and no one should be watching me sleep! Anyway, I had been dreaming of little M and thinking I had lost her. Thankfully I went back to sleep almost immediately but I woke in the morning knowing the dream had happened and feeling really unsettled.

If you've babysat children and have lost them, you might have an inkling of understanding what it's like to lose a child. I remember when the girls were little and K used to LOVE hiding in the clothes racks when we went shopping. I would have panic moments, wondering if she had been stolen. I'd call her name, and she'd giggle, hiding the whole time in the middle of the circular display of brightly colored shirts. This happened often at "Limited, Too" which is now very similar to a weirdly-named young girl's clothing store, "Justice." I used to yell at her because didn't she know how worried I was? Don't do that!

The panic of losing your child and imagining some irreparable harm coming to them is one of the most horrifying, nightmarish feelings of a mother's whole life. Usually the first minute is spent thinking, "don't panic don't panic don't panic" and then after that minute it is "panic panic panic." Then, the utter relief you feel when you find them after that second minute is ridiculously jubilant and angry at the same time. Doesn't she know?

If you have children, I am guessing you know this feeling.

I wonder if I now feel this because my children are both getting ready to be adults. I wonder if the sense of loss over their childhoods is now manifesting itself in dream-lost-panic. I know, this is a bit too psycho-analytical. It was probably just a bad dream.

Not enjoying, getting through, and making it

Life is pretty crazy for me right now. Most of it is work-related. I can't seem to spend enough hours in a day working. Always behind, my project failed and that was kind of embarassing, but I'm having to move forward because that's what we do, and I'm trying to be chipper.

It's an endless game.

Sometimes I leave work on Fridays and feel like I am starting my "real life." I don't have to wear a fake mask of "I'm okay, you're okay." The mask is probably is not a good thing.

We have non-religious phrases for people that are going through hard times in lives that are not really tragic but are intended to express empathy.

• "Are you making it?" (How are you really doing, is it misery?)
• "Sorry you're having to work so hard." (I'm glad it's not me.)
• "Sucks to be you." (Okay, this is said by just one guy I know, and I personally hate this phrase)

In other news, I was recently given a book by my dear friend Lynn. It's called One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I have started it but haven't finished it yet. It is about expressing thanks for your daily blessings. But even more than that, she ties the thank-yous to what Paul found even in the hard times: "eucharisteo", which is Greek for thanks. I'm not going to sit here and tell you it's the most amazing book I've ever read. She is an amazingly descriptive writer, which I enjoy, but I did struggle with a couple of her thoughts in her chapter on "hard eucharisteo." I think she makes a good point, though, that joy can be found in all things by viewing it with an eye towards finding the thanks in it. "Rejoice always! Pray constantly. Give thanks in everything, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus." (1 Thess. 5:16-18)

I know that anytime you try to find something to "apply" the gospel in our life we will try to make it more than we should, because really, the gospel is about what has already been done for us. However, thanksgiving is something that I sense is part of receiving the gospel so at least trying to practice thanksgiving is important. Voskamp makes a really good point that it takes discipline and practice to be able to have an eye towards being thankful.

I also read Lynn's sister's blog. Lynn's precious nephew Joseph died a few years ago due to brain cancer. Her sister writes from the heart and is no stranger to digging deep and clinging to the One that gives her everything. The blog I read today is about this very topic. It's a sign! Ha.

So, I would like to try Voskamp's exercise: writing down, every day, the joy of small things. The small things that we love, that we are grateful for, even when they might be annoying. Even when I'm just "making it" at work.

Failure

I think most people over the age of 16 know that you learn the most from mistakes, from misfortune, from failure.

That doesn't make it easier when you do actually fail.

I've been involved with a pretty intense project the past six months and today we were told that we weren't going to make our planned release date. And part of it was related to my piece of the project. I know it wasn't completely my fault, but my nature is to accept the blame and to then make it even more my fault than it really is.

I was thinking about failure and how we deal with it. There are some like me, that stay on an endless guilt trip. Then we have those that want to take the blame and shift it. We also have those that want to twist the blame and make someone pay for it, or wreak vengeance. There are the avoiders, too.

Because we are on the side of the fall that errs on the side of sin, we're going to do all of the above. I mean, for Pete's sake, this was evident after Eve ate the apple. Eve shifted the blame, so did Adam, and Adam tried to hide, and so on.

I realize that work failure is one thing, but personal failure is another. With personal failure, I have noticed that I can play the blame game. I know my children have said they feel like they are always the one that messed up. Some of that may because I am the Mom, but some of that is because I do get defensive.  

Intellectually, and thanks to the gospel, I understand that incorrect reactions to failure happen. In my heart, I need to accept that the failure is there to learn from, that it shapes me if I can see it for what it is, and that I must allow for God's sovereignty in the failure if I didn't do anything morally wrong.

I'm still not at peace yet about this.

The Stuff of a February Weekend

It was a great weekend.

I spent Friday night with K and her friend E. We watched "Perks of Being a Wallflower" which reminds me so much of my own high school experience, for some reason. Even though I never really did the things that the main characters did with drugs. Or with the making out. Or with the partying. Ha, who knows why this film makes me reminiscient, maybe because I wanted high school to be like that.

Saturday morning I spent with my dear boyfriend, who went to a pancake breakfast that I somehow convinced him to go to. Then he came over to my house and proceeded to install a peg board for me in my laundry room; fix a shower head; and then cut down three very very tall trees in a lot behind my house. With a chainsaw. That was pretty exciting. Seriously, most thoughtful way to spend a Saturday morning ever.

I spent Saturday afternoon getting communion ready (with K); going for a run; getting some conversion work done which desperately needed to happen to reduce some stress at my M-F job; having a philsophical discussion with K about church; going shopping for food and "no trespassing" signs; and then watching K get ready for a formal dance. She cleans up well, and thanks to our friend Ragan, her hair looked good too. She went with a friend of hers and he came over and picked her up and opened the door for her - very gentlemanly. On the way back down my driveway, he sort of, well, hit my lamp post. The damage to the car looked minimal, thankfully; however, the lamp post is going away.

Saturday night I made a chicken dish with homemade macaroni and green beans for that boyfriend o' mine and his family. We also played ping pong and watched Big Bang Theory which literally makes me laugh out loud pretty much every time I watch it. So here's the thing, my boyfriend is of course great at ping pong. And I am not. 21-4 or something ridiculous like that. I think I need to practice a bit. Still, I know my limitations, and for the most part, I'm good with them.

Sunday has been a mishmash of things. Sleeping in a little. Krispy Kreme with K. Playing with babies in the nursery and singing "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" Reading the paper outside. Going for a run on the Riverwalk. Digging out the aforementioned lamppost. Watching the Academy Awards. Admittedly, they are a little boring.

And now, reflecting. Yes, it's been a great weekend.

Who am I, anyway?

I find sometimes that I have weeks that are so hard. That you have to do things you don't want to, because things are sometimes out of your control.

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
² I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from you.”

Did I do enough to prevent these circumstances? Did I handle my own leadership with grace and discipline? Did I correct when I needed to, and provide guidance in the right way?

³ As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
in whom is all my delight.^[b]

⁴ The sorrows of those who run after^[c] another god shall multiply;
their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
or take their names on my lips.

 

Is everyone going to think I handled this incorrectly? Is everyone going to blame me?

 

⁵ The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
⁶ The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

 

Really, the result of this week was not my doing; this happened because of someone else's doing. Wait, what am I saying? Is everything out of my control?

 

⁷ I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
in the night also my heart instructs me.^[d]
8 I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

 

Why do I feel so pained even though I know it's right? How do I let go of this?

 

⁹ Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being^[e] rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
¹⁰ For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.^[f]

 

How do I know that I am made right? Not by my own doing, but by His. How do I know that I am in His hands and my actions please Him? Lord, I cry out to thee... guide my paths, each and every day.

 

¹¹ You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16

Love and Where It Came From

21 years ago, I found out I was pregnant.

It was a shock.

I was back in school after a semester in Maryland, working at the Defense Department. It was my second semester there and I'd gotten practical career experience. I liked Maryland. I wondered if I would work there after graduation, or if I'd work at a big company elsewhere. However, I was also seriously involved with someone; he'd actually asked my parents for my hand in marriage at Thanksgiving. We were planning to get married after graduation. We were in love.

He went with me to the doctor that day; it was the Student Health Center on campus. I didn't take a pregnancy test before then, sort of living in denial. When the doctor called us in, and said, "you're pregnant," my whole being stopped really listening. I heard some basic words like "you can get health care" but I didn't really remember much until I went back to my apartment. I knew we needed to talk to my parents, his parents.

I knew my life was about to change in a HUGE way.

I also understand now that God moved that day. God worked. God had a plan. God knew that baby would provide me a basis for knowing Him, for seeing Him in my day-to-day, for growing in grace. He knew the plans He had for me, plans for good, not for evil, plans to give me a future and a hope. And He did. God works all things together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.

That baby is my precious daughter M, for who I give thanks for every day. She had to deal with a very young mom who was utterly naive and selfish in so many ways. She has taught me what sacrifice is, at least the sacrifices that moms go through.

Yet the love I feel towards her, the love I feel towards my daughter K, and the love I feel in my walk with Him, is nothing compared to His love for me. This love is what enables us, by His grace, to truly know what love is: the love that Jesus showed us in His death on the cross, in His resurrection, which he did to show His love for the church.

Let us celebrate this Valentine's Day that we are recipients of the kingdom of Heaven because of the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Weeks that go by

It's been a quiet couple of weeks on my blog, but not in my life. I traveled to Newtown, Pennsylvania (not Connecticut, where tragedy hit in December; I did a double take when I saw the itinerary though). I had lunches and dinners with my girls. I had a spend-the-night party with two young friends who are in the 4th and 5th grades. I went to my first Alabama basketball game in 13 years with my boyfriend. I made cupcakes with some sweet college friends and we actually got first place in a cupcake competition! I have cried over Downton Abbey (I am not quite over what this season has wrought). I have ALMOST finished my puzzle that I started on New Years' Day. And that is the most important piece of information. Eventually it will not be on the coffee table anymore.

I want to say that I've thought deeply about theology, about life, about existentialism, but not really; I'm just sort of here. I'm living and trying and loving and going. Sometimes that's what happens. I'm not apologizing. Because it's been a fun few weeks and I've had good, solid times with wonderful, wonderful friends and family. It's also been a tough few weeks too, with hard discussions about whys and will-it-happen worries. Isn't that life?