May 30, 2010

although I want this to be a ‘good’ post, I don’t think I have the energy.  a ‘good’ post involves more time and effort than I have at the moment.  (also why I don’t post much lately)  it’s late.  I’m tired.  so many things weigh on my mind…

what do you do when the position you’ve been appointed seems to be wearing you down?  God has put me here, given me these little ones to watch over, guide along the way…  (I would hardly qualify to be given such a position.) but… sometimes… I’m just tired of this job.  it is soo constant.  every minute.  all these moments of character training.  not to mention the basics of feeding, cleaning, clothing, educating.  I want a break.  I want to not  make decisions for a while.  I want someone to take care of me.

I am forced to think about how I am going to move cole around when he gets bigger as I trip and stumble over his feet as I try to carry him to the living room.  just a little bit bigger.  I can still do it now, (I probably shouldn’t).  but how much longer?  he’s over 60 pounds and 5 feet tall.  how long will I be able to carry him to the bathroom?  what will I do when I can’t?  of course, having our helpers out of town for 5 days brings this to the front of my mind too.  at some point we are going to have to have someone here to help all the time.  all the time.  I don’t want someone in my house all the time.  but I can’t do it without someone.

what do I do with this young man (dawson) who is growing right before my very eyes?  the one who now looks  me in the eyes?!?!  how will I be able to teach him all the things he should know?  mentally, emotionally, spiritually…

I’d rather not have to think about memorial day.  not the part about honoring the many brave men and women who have defended this marvelous nation… the other part where we also remember our other loved ones who have gone on before us.

tonight as I put punkin to bed… I’m pretty sure she has chicken pox.  let’s see… exposed 14 days ago, headache, spreading little itchy welts that look kinda like bug bites… yeah… that’s probably pox.

all of these little things (and more) seem to have me in a bit of a funk.  I feel down.  weepy.  tired.  weary.  heavy laden.  the thing is I know it is a funk.  it will pass.  I’ll gain a more stable footing.  right now I just want it over.  if I were a child, I would stomp my feet and cry and be angry and crabby and pout and … … …  oh wait… … … I guess I did do those things today.


not my best friend…

May 24, 2010

as we were finishing up our study of john, we talked a bit about nicodemus.  it seems like most people know him as the one who would only come seeking Jesus under the cover of night.  they question his love and where his loyalties lied in the very end.  I don’t know…  I think there is a lot more here, a lot more to the story.  if I insert myself into the story, and of course I do, it goes more like this.

I love the nicodemus in my life.  the one who came to me in darkest night nights of my life.  the one who was there to wash the wounds and apply the healing balm when the rest of my closest flock was scattered.  this dear person is not my best friend.  know that I saw that very carefully and with no intention of hurting either party.  my beloved (and I have a few… a few) mean more to me than I can explain, but I think that in the moment, in that  moment, I think that the pain and anguish and death of my child was too much for my very closest friends to look upon. … … … like when the disciples were scattered as Jesus was crucified. 

not one of my best friends ever got to hold him.   I was always troubled by that.  I am not anymore.    my nicodemus was there to hold luke and look me in the eyes and say, ” I know”.   I can now see that different friends fill different roles.  it takes all kinds to carry us through this world.

like I said before, I love my dear, beloved few friends.  they receive the majority of my time and energy.  gladly.  but just for tonight, I want to thank my nicodemus.  what would I have done without you?

on a morning when I’d rather not get up I was mightily blessed.  it was about 7:15 this morning.  I could hear cole calling from his room.  I tried to push brian out of bed so he could go get cole, but he wasn’t really moving.  I laid there a few more minutes wondering  if I should keep trying to wake brian or if I should just let him sleep and go get cole myself…  I decided I’d go.

I crawled in bed with cole and got under the covers.  this is and always has been one of my very favorite times with him.  he’s very friendly in the morning when he wakes up on his own.  he likes to talk about things and stretch and just kind of hang out.  he always was our morning sleeper.  a quality that brian and I both love in a child as we are morning sleepers too.  anyway, the first thing he said was ‘morning’, a rather new thing to say for him, a new word in his growing repertoire.  then he said ‘happy mother’s day’. … … … all on  his own.  no prompting.  I didn’t even know he could  say that.  it just melted my heart.  it seriously was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.  of course he saw how excited I was and he kept saying it.  he’s been saying it all day.  a very welcome blessing on this bittersweet holiday.  something more than I would have asked for or expected.  the best mother’s day gift I’ve ever received.  it may seem small to you,  but remember that cole is 12. … 12! …  he has never said happy anything to anyone in his life without specific instruction.  it’s kind of like hearing ‘mama’ for the first time, the first deliberate, arms reaching for you, ‘mama’.  it really got the day started off on the right foot.  thank you God for little kisses along the way to help heal the broken-hearted…

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, … to him be the glory … for ever and ever!  Ephesians 3:20-21

as mother’s day fast approaches, I know I should be happy about my kids… I want  to be happy about my kids, but instead of being thankful for the 3 that are here I am consumed by the thoughts and terribly short memories of the one who isn’t here.  the one whose picture is usually the last thing I see at night… the tiny perfect hands and feet of my fourth born.  the one who was born all warm and pink and wiggling and resembling his father as much as  the other 2 boys.  the one who was held by so few.  the one that very few friends have the courage to speak of and the one that many seem to think not mentioning his name or existence is the best way to handle it.

I also know that I should be happy for others as they are blessed with babies and healthy pregnancies… I want to be happy for them. … … … … … … I am not.  I suppose at some point that will change.  I hope it changes.  right now  I just can’t seem to find happiness for them.  the hurt and anguish and blackest parts of my heart fight to get a hold of my thoughts.  they want to say horrible things like, ‘well isn’t that nice for you… let’s pretend your baby dies now and see how you feel.’  or how about, ‘isn’t that so beautiful… your big round belly.  let’s just pull that little baby out of there and see if it will make it.  let’s see if his lungs are ready.’  and then of course I’d have to add-on, ‘I know it’s awful to say or pretend that… and even doing so you still would have no idea of the actual suffering that something like that causes. … I do.’ 

for now… I turn my head.  I don’t look.  I try to avoid the pregnant women and little babies… and little boys about 1-1 1/2.  I try to pray.  quickly.  Lord, help me take these thoughts captive.  take them away.  purge this darkness in my heart.  give me strength.  steady my mind and my shaky hands.  calm the storm or at least get right here in this little boat with me.  stop this quivering lip. … … … you’ve promised strength for the weary, comfort for the broken-hearted, peace that transcends all understanding…  I’m waiting on you, Lord.  could you honor your promise now?  for your own name’s sake… can you bind this broken heart?  give me beauty instead of ashes, gladness instead of mourning, praise instead of despair? (Isaiah 61:3)

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.  2 Corinthians 10:5

Remember your word to your servant, for you have given me hope.  Psalm 119:49

…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles;they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.   Isaiah 40:31

He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.  Psalm 147:3

And the peace that transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:7