I never really thought about expectations concerning my children. While raising them, I did think about their welfare, whether they were fed, clothed, housed, etc. But expectations? No. Expectations for myself, however, were high, very high. By nature, I am a perfectionist. I expect perfection from myself, but not really for or from others. At least that's what I'd like to think. But, now I think I'm wrong.
As my children were growing up I was probably more of a disciplinarian than most of my friends. I was strict. There were rules. Are those expectations in and of themselves? I'll have to think about that. As children, my kids were taught what not to touch, where not to go, what not to say, how to pick up after themselves--so I guess those were types of expectations. It was important to me that they learned how to function as a group or a team. They all had jobs to do around the house, which multiplied according to their age and ability. I expected them to learn to get along, work well together, and pull their weight. However, I also realized that this was something that had to be taught, that it was not something that was innate. There was training involved and teaching and nurturing. And, I realized that it could go wrong, very wrong if I did not stay on top of things, if I did not correct myself as I went along, or if I became lazy in my training.
So, I guess I did have some expectations after all. Maybe without realizing it, I was grading myself on the future outcome of my children's lives. Would they become useful adults, good citizens, Christians, spouses, parents--would they be awesome people? And whether I was aware of this or not--in my mind, all of this would eventually reflect on my parenting skills. Would I fail? Would all of my efforts go unheeded? Or, would they surpass all of my expectations?
I am going to share something here that my youngest son wrote to me the other day. He wrote it via Facebook and since it is a public forum I am going to repost it on my blog and also my response to him.
From my son--I know it isn't mothers day, but as I sit here writing up my family bio for our adoption home study, I am so grateful to God for your obedience to scripture in raising me. For sacrificing 'stuff' to put me in Christian school, for sacrificing time to teach me about the gospel, and for being patient and trusting in Christ for my salvation. You and dad both were such an amazing example of Romans 2. I love you both so much!
My response--I feel blessed beyond measure to have you for a son. You have far exceeded all my expectations. It was a pleasure to raise you and to watch your growth and progress as a child and then as an adult and an awesome man of God. And thank you for being patient with us as parents--we were still learning too, and relied heavily on prayer to make those sometimes difficult decisions on discipline and nurturing. I am so proud of you Curtis, the way you are with your wife and son makes me a mother who is filled with joy. I love you too, much more than I could ever express with mere words. I will continue to pray for you and your family until I take my last breath. And now, I must go and wipe my eyes.
Yes, I guess I did have expectations for my children. I had them and didn't even know it at the time. I thought I was just doing my job. I was being a mom, I was loving my children and doing my very best. I was depending on God for every last detail. I relied heavily on Him for insight, ideas, everything. And by reading this little note from my son--well, I think things turned out fantastic!
I could not be more proud of my children. I consider myself to be one of the most blessed moms on the face of this earth. I am content and happy and satisfied. Could I have done more? Probably. Could they have done more? No. You see--they have far exceeded my greatest expectations. To me they are awesome--in every way they are perfect, they are my greatest accomplishment in this sweet life of mine. And, I owe every bit of their lives and mine to God. I am grateful. I am thankful. I am overjoyed. I am speechless.
Expectations--it's probably better not to even know you have them, until the very end. They are sweeter that way, don't you think?
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
My Grandma
I keep thinking about her. I just can't get her off of my mind today. I miss her terribly. She died 9 years ago. My grandma. There are so many stories to tell about her, about our relationship and about her life. However, the stories would be from my perspective only, not hers. They'd be viewed from the eyes of a grandchild and I'm not sure just how accurate those stories would be.
My first memories of her were when my little family would make the 90-minute drive to her house for the weekends. My grandfather was still alive then and we'd pile into our old car and make the long, oh so long journey to their house in the country. Remember, I was little--perhaps 2 or 3 years old at that time, so the trip getting there was very long and boring. Once there though, things got exciting for me. They lived on some land that had critters! I remember goats, sheep, cows, chickens, and I'm sure there were many more animals running around that old place. My grandfather had an old truck and sometimes I'd go with him to pick up huge cans of milk. He'd also buy me candy while we were out! He was awesome! It's funny to me now, driving the mile or so distance from where we'd go to pick up food supplies and back to their old house--it was all of a mile or 2 and yet to me, it seemed like we were gone for hours.
I remember my grandfather always sitting at the dining room table drinking coffee and my grandmother always cooking in the kitchen on a great big stove. The house was a 3 bedroom, 1 bath with a living room, dining room and kitchen, no frills and very utilitarian. It had a root cellar that we grandkids loved playing in and a huge yard. We'd play for hours out in the warm summer weather. I can vividly remember laying on my back in the fresh smelling green grass and looking up at the puffy white clouds as they'd slowly pass by. My cousins and I would try to figure out just what shapes we were able to see. Teddy bears or airplanes, sometimes it was hard to tell. There was also a little pony in the pasture next to hers. I didn't know its name but in my heart, I called it Lightning. I don't know how I came up with that name, but I loved that little pony. I pretended he was mine. I think he just might have been the one who ignited my future love and interest in horses.
My grandfather passed away when I was 6 years old. I didn't fully understand death, I didn't know then that I would not see him again in this life. And of course, the grieving that my grandmother experienced was heartbreaking to watch. Eventually over time though she came back to me. I'd go stay for weeks at a time in the summer and we'd laugh, talk, play poker, pick berries, bake cobblers, and eat ice cream sandwiches. We'd watch late night TV together and then later we'd talk late into the night. Yes, I keep thinking about her. She'd be over 100 years old if she were still living today. I bet you anything that if she were still alive, she'd be just a feisty as ever. We had so much fun, her and I. I think she was my first real best friend.
I feel extremely blessed that my grandma knew my children and even met my son-in-law. However, sometimes I daydream about her knowing my grandchildren. I think she would have just loved them. I think she'd be bowled over by the similarities between them and me, and also between her grandchildren and my grandchildren. It's a pretty wild thought to ponder. Family traits and resemblances have always intrigued me. For instance--once, a few years back while walking behind my little sister I saw my grandmothers walk. It brought tears to my eyes, I had never noticed it before. And one time while looking through old pictures I found a picture of my grandmother and thought for a minute that it was an old snapshot of me. Now as I look at my own children I see similarities between them and their grandparents, and it makes me happy. Yes, I'm happy that those traits that I see will be carried on for generations.
I love being a mother and a grandmother. I now see the important significance of family like I never have before. I can't even imagine not having my memories of my grandma. She was that important to me.
So today I am thinking of her. I am remembering all those times of laughing and talking and eating and well, all those wonderful times with her.
I'm pretty sure that we were each other's favorites, but don't tell anybody. It's supposed to be a secret.
My first memories of her were when my little family would make the 90-minute drive to her house for the weekends. My grandfather was still alive then and we'd pile into our old car and make the long, oh so long journey to their house in the country. Remember, I was little--perhaps 2 or 3 years old at that time, so the trip getting there was very long and boring. Once there though, things got exciting for me. They lived on some land that had critters! I remember goats, sheep, cows, chickens, and I'm sure there were many more animals running around that old place. My grandfather had an old truck and sometimes I'd go with him to pick up huge cans of milk. He'd also buy me candy while we were out! He was awesome! It's funny to me now, driving the mile or so distance from where we'd go to pick up food supplies and back to their old house--it was all of a mile or 2 and yet to me, it seemed like we were gone for hours.
I remember my grandfather always sitting at the dining room table drinking coffee and my grandmother always cooking in the kitchen on a great big stove. The house was a 3 bedroom, 1 bath with a living room, dining room and kitchen, no frills and very utilitarian. It had a root cellar that we grandkids loved playing in and a huge yard. We'd play for hours out in the warm summer weather. I can vividly remember laying on my back in the fresh smelling green grass and looking up at the puffy white clouds as they'd slowly pass by. My cousins and I would try to figure out just what shapes we were able to see. Teddy bears or airplanes, sometimes it was hard to tell. There was also a little pony in the pasture next to hers. I didn't know its name but in my heart, I called it Lightning. I don't know how I came up with that name, but I loved that little pony. I pretended he was mine. I think he just might have been the one who ignited my future love and interest in horses.
My grandfather passed away when I was 6 years old. I didn't fully understand death, I didn't know then that I would not see him again in this life. And of course, the grieving that my grandmother experienced was heartbreaking to watch. Eventually over time though she came back to me. I'd go stay for weeks at a time in the summer and we'd laugh, talk, play poker, pick berries, bake cobblers, and eat ice cream sandwiches. We'd watch late night TV together and then later we'd talk late into the night. Yes, I keep thinking about her. She'd be over 100 years old if she were still living today. I bet you anything that if she were still alive, she'd be just a feisty as ever. We had so much fun, her and I. I think she was my first real best friend.
I feel extremely blessed that my grandma knew my children and even met my son-in-law. However, sometimes I daydream about her knowing my grandchildren. I think she would have just loved them. I think she'd be bowled over by the similarities between them and me, and also between her grandchildren and my grandchildren. It's a pretty wild thought to ponder. Family traits and resemblances have always intrigued me. For instance--once, a few years back while walking behind my little sister I saw my grandmothers walk. It brought tears to my eyes, I had never noticed it before. And one time while looking through old pictures I found a picture of my grandmother and thought for a minute that it was an old snapshot of me. Now as I look at my own children I see similarities between them and their grandparents, and it makes me happy. Yes, I'm happy that those traits that I see will be carried on for generations.
I love being a mother and a grandmother. I now see the important significance of family like I never have before. I can't even imagine not having my memories of my grandma. She was that important to me.
So today I am thinking of her. I am remembering all those times of laughing and talking and eating and well, all those wonderful times with her.
I'm pretty sure that we were each other's favorites, but don't tell anybody. It's supposed to be a secret.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Even The First Time
Sometimes I wonder if others can tell. I sit and contemplate my life and I wonder about how I am perceived by those who do not know me. When they see me, do they know? Are they aware? And if they know, what, exactly do they think about me? Are they drawn to me because of it, or are they repelled by it? I wonder about this all the time. What are their first impressions of me?
As I sat thoughtfully examining these questions, little comparisons came to my mind--I proudly wear my wedding ring, so people instantly know that I am married. And if one were to come into my home, I have pictures all over my house of my children and grandchildren--they would find out soon that I am a mother and a grandmother. So, I guess some things are obvious, while others are not. Some take time. It's that time part that concerns me. During that duration of time--do people know? Are they getting a sense of who I really am? Or are they derailed in a sense by those dratted first impressions?
When others look at me, do they see in me how I really feel? Can they sense my failure? My I don't measure up feelings of insecurity? Or do they see in me what I've been taught? Do they see who I have become? Or in my introspective attitude, do they think I am stand-offish? And in that same vein, am I too introspective? Rather than being focused on myself, shouldn't I be focused on them? Or should I be more focused on me?
This to me is what is called a conundrum--it truly is. You see, I want others to instantly see that I am a true believer. That I display in my humble life all the ways of God. I want them to know that I deeply feel compassion, love, acceptance, forgiveness, patience, kindness, and joy.
And yet, I feel as though I fail every day. I am worried that when they see me they will see someone who is the opposite of all the things above. I am so afraid of that. Because in my humanness I have failed so many times. I wonder too, how can God still love me? When time after time I run to Him and apologize for messing up once again. Why doesn't He throw in the towel, say I'm done with you, turn His back on me? Why? Can't He see how truly bad I am sometimes? Doesn't He hear me when all I do is complain, or whine, or get jealous? Unfortunately, my list of grumblings goes on and on. Why does He still love me and forgive me?
The only thing I have to compare His love to is the love I have for my own children. I would always forgive them, and I would always love them no matter what. There isn't anything they could ever do to rip that love from my heart. Nothing. Not one thing. It wouldn't matter to me what they did, I would love them, no matter the crimes, or acts of violence committed by them, I would love them unconditionally. They are my children, my flesh, and bone. Nothing could ever change that. So, why then, I must ask myself--is God not capable of having an even greater love for me?
This is what I am thinking about today. His unfailing, unconditional love for me. I am grateful that He loves me, that He is patient with me, that He forgives me. I am thankful. And I love Him back. And I hope and pray that your first impression of me is just that. She loves her God. With all of her heart. And nothing will ever change that. I hope that is what you see when you see me. Even the first time.
As I sat thoughtfully examining these questions, little comparisons came to my mind--I proudly wear my wedding ring, so people instantly know that I am married. And if one were to come into my home, I have pictures all over my house of my children and grandchildren--they would find out soon that I am a mother and a grandmother. So, I guess some things are obvious, while others are not. Some take time. It's that time part that concerns me. During that duration of time--do people know? Are they getting a sense of who I really am? Or are they derailed in a sense by those dratted first impressions?
When others look at me, do they see in me how I really feel? Can they sense my failure? My I don't measure up feelings of insecurity? Or do they see in me what I've been taught? Do they see who I have become? Or in my introspective attitude, do they think I am stand-offish? And in that same vein, am I too introspective? Rather than being focused on myself, shouldn't I be focused on them? Or should I be more focused on me?
This to me is what is called a conundrum--it truly is. You see, I want others to instantly see that I am a true believer. That I display in my humble life all the ways of God. I want them to know that I deeply feel compassion, love, acceptance, forgiveness, patience, kindness, and joy.
And yet, I feel as though I fail every day. I am worried that when they see me they will see someone who is the opposite of all the things above. I am so afraid of that. Because in my humanness I have failed so many times. I wonder too, how can God still love me? When time after time I run to Him and apologize for messing up once again. Why doesn't He throw in the towel, say I'm done with you, turn His back on me? Why? Can't He see how truly bad I am sometimes? Doesn't He hear me when all I do is complain, or whine, or get jealous? Unfortunately, my list of grumblings goes on and on. Why does He still love me and forgive me?
The only thing I have to compare His love to is the love I have for my own children. I would always forgive them, and I would always love them no matter what. There isn't anything they could ever do to rip that love from my heart. Nothing. Not one thing. It wouldn't matter to me what they did, I would love them, no matter the crimes, or acts of violence committed by them, I would love them unconditionally. They are my children, my flesh, and bone. Nothing could ever change that. So, why then, I must ask myself--is God not capable of having an even greater love for me?
This is what I am thinking about today. His unfailing, unconditional love for me. I am grateful that He loves me, that He is patient with me, that He forgives me. I am thankful. And I love Him back. And I hope and pray that your first impression of me is just that. She loves her God. With all of her heart. And nothing will ever change that. I hope that is what you see when you see me. Even the first time.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Always
A lot of churches have them. Small groups or home groups or home Bible studies. They are called a lot of different names but they pretty much all serve the same purpose. During the week, a small group of people who usually are similar to you get together. The similarities could range from same age children, like interests, or married, single, you name it. There is usually a group somewhere where you can fit into comfortably. During these meetings, there is a time of fellowship (i.e. talking and laughing) and most always there is dessert involved--you know us Christians, all food all the time! Then you sit down and together discuss either a popular Christian book or a book of the Bible. Afterward, you typically pray together. Sharing is a big part of these small gatherings. It's a time to bare you soul, so to speak. A time to ask your close Christian friends to pray for you or with you about a concern for either for yourself or someone you are close to and care about. It's an important factor in any church. I believe it helps to bind the church together. These small groups form an alliance and long lasting friendships, a family sort of bond that can be carried on for years. And even though we have moved a lot, we are still in contact over all these many years with those that have been in our small groups over the years. Their friendships are invaluable. They are usually the first people I call out to in times of distress or sorrow, they are in effect--family.
We are now involved in such a group at our church. We are relatively new. We are newbies. We are still making our way, getting to know the couples in our group. The similarities between us are as you would expect--empty nesters, grandparents, and well grounded in our faith. We are now reading through the book of Acts. We share opinions and insights. We pose questions, and then all try to answer those questions as best we can.
The other night though got me to thinking. Someone asked this question--I wonder if we pray enough?
Now I've written a blog on prayer before. I tried my hardest to tell you what prayer meant to me, giving you my own definition. However, that isn't what this blog is about. This blog is about my answering the question posed--do we pray enough? Immediately while he was speaking a portion of scripture came to mind. Being a newbie to the group though, I held back my answer and waited to see if others were thinking the same thing I was and sure enough someone mentioned this verse.
In 1 Thessalonians 5:16--we are told to pray without ceasing.
I am still thinking about that question today. I believe that we are to continuously (unbroken, without interruption) be praying. And I wonder--how is that different from continually praying? There is a difference you know. I've done some research. I've delved into this matter. I was curious. Not that that comes as any surprise!
So, here is my conclusion--no, no we probably don't pray enough. And this is why--we have a tendency to pray continually or in frequent or repeated prayers. Instead of continuously, and I believe there is a huge difference. And if you think about it for just a minute--just the fact that we ask that question shows that we might not be feeling as close to God as we'd like. However, if we changed one small word, one small way of doing something, one small way of thinking, one small way of praying--wouldn't our heart change too? I think it would. Pray without ceasing. Pray all the time--continuously, without interruption. Pray. All. The. Time. In an unbroken, uninterrupted manner. Always.
Simple? Yes, very. You see, it's an attitude more than anything. You wake up in the morning and you begin to thank God for everything. Your home, your bed, your life, your family, your friends--every little thing, silly or important, it doesn't matter to Him. You go throughout your day, singing to Him, thinking about Him, praising Him--that's praying. It's a heart thing, it's a mind thing, it's being grateful, thankful and appreciative. So, stay in that attitude, that mindset of prayer all day long--without ever stopping. That is praying without ceasing. And then, you won't wonder, you won't question, you won't feel--well, you won't feel not close to God. You will feel His presence all around you all the time. Hmmmm, maybe kind of like those great big eagles wings wrapped around you, protecting you from everything. At least that's how I feel.
He is always there, He is always listening, He is the great I Am. So you be there too. Always.
We are now involved in such a group at our church. We are relatively new. We are newbies. We are still making our way, getting to know the couples in our group. The similarities between us are as you would expect--empty nesters, grandparents, and well grounded in our faith. We are now reading through the book of Acts. We share opinions and insights. We pose questions, and then all try to answer those questions as best we can.
The other night though got me to thinking. Someone asked this question--I wonder if we pray enough?
Now I've written a blog on prayer before. I tried my hardest to tell you what prayer meant to me, giving you my own definition. However, that isn't what this blog is about. This blog is about my answering the question posed--do we pray enough? Immediately while he was speaking a portion of scripture came to mind. Being a newbie to the group though, I held back my answer and waited to see if others were thinking the same thing I was and sure enough someone mentioned this verse.
In 1 Thessalonians 5:16--we are told to pray without ceasing.
I am still thinking about that question today. I believe that we are to continuously (unbroken, without interruption) be praying. And I wonder--how is that different from continually praying? There is a difference you know. I've done some research. I've delved into this matter. I was curious. Not that that comes as any surprise!
So, here is my conclusion--no, no we probably don't pray enough. And this is why--we have a tendency to pray continually or in frequent or repeated prayers. Instead of continuously, and I believe there is a huge difference. And if you think about it for just a minute--just the fact that we ask that question shows that we might not be feeling as close to God as we'd like. However, if we changed one small word, one small way of doing something, one small way of thinking, one small way of praying--wouldn't our heart change too? I think it would. Pray without ceasing. Pray all the time--continuously, without interruption. Pray. All. The. Time. In an unbroken, uninterrupted manner. Always.
Simple? Yes, very. You see, it's an attitude more than anything. You wake up in the morning and you begin to thank God for everything. Your home, your bed, your life, your family, your friends--every little thing, silly or important, it doesn't matter to Him. You go throughout your day, singing to Him, thinking about Him, praising Him--that's praying. It's a heart thing, it's a mind thing, it's being grateful, thankful and appreciative. So, stay in that attitude, that mindset of prayer all day long--without ever stopping. That is praying without ceasing. And then, you won't wonder, you won't question, you won't feel--well, you won't feel not close to God. You will feel His presence all around you all the time. Hmmmm, maybe kind of like those great big eagles wings wrapped around you, protecting you from everything. At least that's how I feel.
He is always there, He is always listening, He is the great I Am. So you be there too. Always.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Disconnected
I feel it sometimes--that disconnected feeling, that separation from family and friends. I'd like to lay blame on something or someone--however, how can I? Should I blame my parents, my husband, myself? God? Or should I analyze my situation and then come to terms with some type of acceptance? I think that somehow I should accept this feeling of disconnectedness and then move on. It's easier said than done though, let me assure you. I've tried. Once in a while, I am successful and once in a while, I am not.
I am having extremely deep thoughts today. They've come about because my oldest son is in China for the next 2 weeks. As I sat pondering this fact I wondered if he had arrived safely and then thought--he'll call his wife. And that's as it should be. I'm just the mom and he's all grown up now. I have moved over to my position in his life, I am now on a need to know basis. Disconnected.
These thoughts then spiraled into--I feel bad for my daughter and in-law daughters. They have sons too. Daughters aren't as independent as sons. No, that's not it. They are really more independent than sons. So what is it? I think that they have less to prove. They become wives and mothers which are very natural to them, whereas sons struggle a little more with the new titles. They'd like to call mom and dad, but then they might be perceived as babies, so they don't. It's just not the manly thing to do. So, in the not too distant future, the women in my life will also become disconnected with their sons. They think they won't, but they will. I was the most hands-on boy's mom ever, and even I feel disconnected at times. It makes me very sad.
Those thoughts then spiraled me into this thought--what about friendships? I had a very nomadic childhood. It made making and keeping friends difficult. The one thing I longed for in my life was stability. I envied those relatives and friends who lived in the same towns all their lives. They had lifelong friends. Some had the same house, same schools, same friends, same ol' same ol'. I wanted some of that. I was determined to give my children some of that. And yet--it didn't quite turn out that way. Part of me is sad about that fact and part of me is glad--once again--a split personality. I can see the value in both really. On one hand you have stability and on the other hand, you have--well, what do you have? Adventure maybe? Friends from all over the world? City and street smarts? Global thinking? Openness to new ideas? Maybe all of that.
However, it stills leads to a feeling at times of disconnectedness. Because no matter how hard I try to stay connected to old friends from long ago, they move on without me. Which lead me to ponder this thought. Is that what it's like after you die? Friends and family move on? Just like when you've moved away? Life goes on without you and you realize--it's true. You can't go home again, nothing is ever the same. You have become disconnected from them. All that is left is memories. I have evidence to back up this theory of mine. I once moved about 1 and 1/2 hours south of the town I had grown up in. I was gone for 8 years, but I kept in contact with my old friends. And then one day we moved back. Did we take up where we left off? No, we did not. No, we ended up making all new friends, and rarely seeing the old friends. And try as I might, that feeling of connectedness never ever returned.
Disconnected. It's what I am thinking about today. I have lived in 4 different states now. I have children living in other states. I have friends from all over the world. I have attended 13 schools not including college. I have owned 9 homes. And have rented at least 3 apartments. I don't know what is next in my life. It's been so nomadic thus far, so why in the world would it be any different in my future? And, with this adventurous heart of mine, would I be happy to settle into one place, one home, one set of friends for the duration of my life? These are questions I have. I like where I am living right now. However, I miss my children terribly. I am not stupid though, I don't think they give a lot of thought to missing us. They are busy with lives of their own. We have now become extended family members--as it should be. We have disconnected somewhat.
So, what is in our future? And do I really want to know? And, if I had a do-over, would I take it? No, I don't think so. I would not want to give up meeting all of the wonderful people that I've had the privilege of knowing. What would I do without their friendship? My life might be so much more simple, but so plain, so unfulfilled, at least it seems that way to me. I guess I am just where I need to be, a nomad living a sweet nomadic life with someone just a crazy as I am.
Are we disconnected? Maybe, maybe not. I'm not sure. Maybe we are more connected than anyone else we know, maybe we are aware of the importance of true connectedness. Maybe.
I am having extremely deep thoughts today. They've come about because my oldest son is in China for the next 2 weeks. As I sat pondering this fact I wondered if he had arrived safely and then thought--he'll call his wife. And that's as it should be. I'm just the mom and he's all grown up now. I have moved over to my position in his life, I am now on a need to know basis. Disconnected.
These thoughts then spiraled into--I feel bad for my daughter and in-law daughters. They have sons too. Daughters aren't as independent as sons. No, that's not it. They are really more independent than sons. So what is it? I think that they have less to prove. They become wives and mothers which are very natural to them, whereas sons struggle a little more with the new titles. They'd like to call mom and dad, but then they might be perceived as babies, so they don't. It's just not the manly thing to do. So, in the not too distant future, the women in my life will also become disconnected with their sons. They think they won't, but they will. I was the most hands-on boy's mom ever, and even I feel disconnected at times. It makes me very sad.
Those thoughts then spiraled me into this thought--what about friendships? I had a very nomadic childhood. It made making and keeping friends difficult. The one thing I longed for in my life was stability. I envied those relatives and friends who lived in the same towns all their lives. They had lifelong friends. Some had the same house, same schools, same friends, same ol' same ol'. I wanted some of that. I was determined to give my children some of that. And yet--it didn't quite turn out that way. Part of me is sad about that fact and part of me is glad--once again--a split personality. I can see the value in both really. On one hand you have stability and on the other hand, you have--well, what do you have? Adventure maybe? Friends from all over the world? City and street smarts? Global thinking? Openness to new ideas? Maybe all of that.
However, it stills leads to a feeling at times of disconnectedness. Because no matter how hard I try to stay connected to old friends from long ago, they move on without me. Which lead me to ponder this thought. Is that what it's like after you die? Friends and family move on? Just like when you've moved away? Life goes on without you and you realize--it's true. You can't go home again, nothing is ever the same. You have become disconnected from them. All that is left is memories. I have evidence to back up this theory of mine. I once moved about 1 and 1/2 hours south of the town I had grown up in. I was gone for 8 years, but I kept in contact with my old friends. And then one day we moved back. Did we take up where we left off? No, we did not. No, we ended up making all new friends, and rarely seeing the old friends. And try as I might, that feeling of connectedness never ever returned.
Disconnected. It's what I am thinking about today. I have lived in 4 different states now. I have children living in other states. I have friends from all over the world. I have attended 13 schools not including college. I have owned 9 homes. And have rented at least 3 apartments. I don't know what is next in my life. It's been so nomadic thus far, so why in the world would it be any different in my future? And, with this adventurous heart of mine, would I be happy to settle into one place, one home, one set of friends for the duration of my life? These are questions I have. I like where I am living right now. However, I miss my children terribly. I am not stupid though, I don't think they give a lot of thought to missing us. They are busy with lives of their own. We have now become extended family members--as it should be. We have disconnected somewhat.
So, what is in our future? And do I really want to know? And, if I had a do-over, would I take it? No, I don't think so. I would not want to give up meeting all of the wonderful people that I've had the privilege of knowing. What would I do without their friendship? My life might be so much more simple, but so plain, so unfulfilled, at least it seems that way to me. I guess I am just where I need to be, a nomad living a sweet nomadic life with someone just a crazy as I am.
Are we disconnected? Maybe, maybe not. I'm not sure. Maybe we are more connected than anyone else we know, maybe we are aware of the importance of true connectedness. Maybe.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
In My Opinion
I try hard to stay out of it. It being most things controversial. It's hard though. Some things just fire me up. I find myself getting so angry and then I have to vent. That's what my husband is for. I vent, he listens. It's reciprocal don't worry. We are both good at listening to each other. And then there is my blog. I love writing, however, I really don't want to alienate anyone, or anger anyone. Sometimes though things need to be said. Sometimes people need to know how you feel about something.
So I've decided to make this blog all about my real opinions on issues. Now don't go getting all riled up--they are just opinions, they aren't important, they don't affect anything or anyone--they are just mine all mine. And whether they make sense to you or not, well, frankly doesn't matter, because to tell you the truth--half of them don't even make sense to me.
The Bible says, judge not. That is the hardest commandment for me to obey, and yet I must. It's a good thing that God is in the business of forgiveness where we are concerned--otherwise, well, I don't want to even think about otherwise! I try hard not to judge others. Sin abounds in this world--my sin as well as others. I end up seeing other people's sin though and not a whole lot of my own. My mistake. So how do I live a life for God without judging the lives of those who choose not to follow the teachings of Christ? That's a hard one for me but I try. I really do. Anyway, here I go--here are a few of my opinions.
Abortion--OK, here goes. I am pro-life. No surprise there. However, what about the friends and family members whom I love dearly who've had abortions? What category do I put them in? I don't. I put myself in their place, it's called empathy. I can't even imagine how they feel about the fact that they've terminated the life of their child. If it were me in their place I'd beat myself up about it until the day I died. I'll bet anything they do too, so why should I do that to them? Why not pray for them? Why not comfort them? Why not do what Jesus would do? It's always been interesting to me how in the Bible Jesus got so mad at the money changer/church goer/religious types, but when it came to the prostitutes and the thieves, He loved them. He understood them, He, well, He died for them. He didn't condemn them, He called out to them--come to me, I'll heal your brokenness, I'll fix you, I'll show you a better way, I'll forgive you and those sins you committed. Those sins will be cast be so far away from you that you'll never hear of them again. So why oh why, should I condemn them when even Jesus doesn't? He's cast their sins away, why should I chase after them and say--hey, you forgot your sins! Don't you want them, they'll haunt you for the rest of your life!!! No, that isn't what God is all about, not at all.
Politics--I am neither a democrat nor a republican. I am neither a liberal nor a conservative. I hate labels other than the few that I go by. Which are Christian, wife, mother, friend--do you get where I am going with this? Politics are evil, they divide rather than drawing people together. It's become about money and popularity. People become mean and hateful and very scary when discussing politics. Supposedly we live in a free society and a free country where we vote. We go into a little booth and we make a little mark in a box choosing the candidate or the law, etc. that we most line up with. Sometimes we don't believe in all they stand for, but believe in most of it, so we vote that way. Personally, I read the issues and I pray and then when I get into my little booth I start voting. I let my conscience be my guide--so to speak. However, today in our society you are ridiculed (by both sides) no matter which side of the fence you sit on. And boy, you had better pick a side and then stay on that side or else! Or else what? What happened to my freedom? Is it only for some? Hmmmm
Religion--if you've spent any time at all reading my blog, you know by now that I am a Christian. I do not hide my beliefs, nor however, do I condemn yours. Do I think that mine is the one true religion? The only way to God? The one true religion that all should be following? Of course, I do, that's precisely why I believe the way I do. However, in answering all those questions I also 100% believe in freedom of religion. And if you freely speak to me of your beliefs, then I will assume that it will be ok to freely speak to you of mine. I am careful not to offend but want to always be available to discuss my beliefs with anyone who's interested. I am devout, I am a true follower of the teachings of Jesus Christ. I respect others beliefs and hopefully have never offended anyone with mine. When the opportunity comes along for me to share my God with others, believe me, I will jump at it. However, I will not beat you over the head with my Bible--don't worry. I made in a personal goal of mine in college to study religions of the world so that I would be better equipped to share my own faith. I learned a lot and I also learned to respect other belief systems.
Racism--I've experienced it, have you? I've told one story before about my maternal grandmother's racist remarks made towards me, however, I have another story. One that opened my eyes to how others might feel while visiting foreign countries. I was in Europe with my husband on business and we were at an important dinner one evening. I was sitting next to a very obnoxious gentleman who spoke English. Early on he let me know that he did not like Americans, he gave several examples of his reasoning, and when I tried to explain to him that not all Americans were that way, he would have none of it. His mind was made up. All Americans, all, were right wing, conservatives, who've never gone to college, who've never read a book, everyone is fat, loud and rude. The more I tried to reason with him the more stubborn he became. I assured him that he was completely off base. I explained to him that I had gone to college, and that I was a moderate, that my passion was reading, and that I wasn't all the other things mentioned above. Nope, his mind was made up. Americans were all uneducated pigs. I was stunned and as soon as I could I excused myself from the table and began another conversation with someone else. I had just been discriminated against. Not for my gender, or my color, or my religion, but from the country that I was born and raised in. He highly offended me, and he didn't care one bit. And then my mind began to wonder--have I ever made blanket statements about another people group in that way? I certainly hope and pray not. But, I have heard others in my own country make remarks like that about folks from other countries. Why don't they speak English, why can't they read, why, why, why? I will tell you one thing, ever since that incident I have been so compassionate towards foreigners in my country. If I see them looking at maps, I help them. If they don't speak English I try to find someone who speaks their language. I love to travel to other countries and if it weren't for the many kindhearted people there to help me I don't know what I'd do. I get so excited when I am in Europe and I see a sign in English. It makes me wonder--why can't we put up a few more signs in different languages to help others in America? Would that be so hard? Can we show some compassion? Some understanding? Let's show some true American kindness--to our fellow countrymen, and to our foreign visitors, no matter their religion, skin color, gender or ethnic group. Let's love one another! Let's be like Jesus!
So these are just a few of my opinions. I have so many more. However, I do not believe that they are very important right now. If in the future I feel the need to write about them though I will, for now, that's all I've got.
So I've decided to make this blog all about my real opinions on issues. Now don't go getting all riled up--they are just opinions, they aren't important, they don't affect anything or anyone--they are just mine all mine. And whether they make sense to you or not, well, frankly doesn't matter, because to tell you the truth--half of them don't even make sense to me.
The Bible says, judge not. That is the hardest commandment for me to obey, and yet I must. It's a good thing that God is in the business of forgiveness where we are concerned--otherwise, well, I don't want to even think about otherwise! I try hard not to judge others. Sin abounds in this world--my sin as well as others. I end up seeing other people's sin though and not a whole lot of my own. My mistake. So how do I live a life for God without judging the lives of those who choose not to follow the teachings of Christ? That's a hard one for me but I try. I really do. Anyway, here I go--here are a few of my opinions.
Abortion--OK, here goes. I am pro-life. No surprise there. However, what about the friends and family members whom I love dearly who've had abortions? What category do I put them in? I don't. I put myself in their place, it's called empathy. I can't even imagine how they feel about the fact that they've terminated the life of their child. If it were me in their place I'd beat myself up about it until the day I died. I'll bet anything they do too, so why should I do that to them? Why not pray for them? Why not comfort them? Why not do what Jesus would do? It's always been interesting to me how in the Bible Jesus got so mad at the money changer/church goer/religious types, but when it came to the prostitutes and the thieves, He loved them. He understood them, He, well, He died for them. He didn't condemn them, He called out to them--come to me, I'll heal your brokenness, I'll fix you, I'll show you a better way, I'll forgive you and those sins you committed. Those sins will be cast be so far away from you that you'll never hear of them again. So why oh why, should I condemn them when even Jesus doesn't? He's cast their sins away, why should I chase after them and say--hey, you forgot your sins! Don't you want them, they'll haunt you for the rest of your life!!! No, that isn't what God is all about, not at all.
Politics--I am neither a democrat nor a republican. I am neither a liberal nor a conservative. I hate labels other than the few that I go by. Which are Christian, wife, mother, friend--do you get where I am going with this? Politics are evil, they divide rather than drawing people together. It's become about money and popularity. People become mean and hateful and very scary when discussing politics. Supposedly we live in a free society and a free country where we vote. We go into a little booth and we make a little mark in a box choosing the candidate or the law, etc. that we most line up with. Sometimes we don't believe in all they stand for, but believe in most of it, so we vote that way. Personally, I read the issues and I pray and then when I get into my little booth I start voting. I let my conscience be my guide--so to speak. However, today in our society you are ridiculed (by both sides) no matter which side of the fence you sit on. And boy, you had better pick a side and then stay on that side or else! Or else what? What happened to my freedom? Is it only for some? Hmmmm
Religion--if you've spent any time at all reading my blog, you know by now that I am a Christian. I do not hide my beliefs, nor however, do I condemn yours. Do I think that mine is the one true religion? The only way to God? The one true religion that all should be following? Of course, I do, that's precisely why I believe the way I do. However, in answering all those questions I also 100% believe in freedom of religion. And if you freely speak to me of your beliefs, then I will assume that it will be ok to freely speak to you of mine. I am careful not to offend but want to always be available to discuss my beliefs with anyone who's interested. I am devout, I am a true follower of the teachings of Jesus Christ. I respect others beliefs and hopefully have never offended anyone with mine. When the opportunity comes along for me to share my God with others, believe me, I will jump at it. However, I will not beat you over the head with my Bible--don't worry. I made in a personal goal of mine in college to study religions of the world so that I would be better equipped to share my own faith. I learned a lot and I also learned to respect other belief systems.
Racism--I've experienced it, have you? I've told one story before about my maternal grandmother's racist remarks made towards me, however, I have another story. One that opened my eyes to how others might feel while visiting foreign countries. I was in Europe with my husband on business and we were at an important dinner one evening. I was sitting next to a very obnoxious gentleman who spoke English. Early on he let me know that he did not like Americans, he gave several examples of his reasoning, and when I tried to explain to him that not all Americans were that way, he would have none of it. His mind was made up. All Americans, all, were right wing, conservatives, who've never gone to college, who've never read a book, everyone is fat, loud and rude. The more I tried to reason with him the more stubborn he became. I assured him that he was completely off base. I explained to him that I had gone to college, and that I was a moderate, that my passion was reading, and that I wasn't all the other things mentioned above. Nope, his mind was made up. Americans were all uneducated pigs. I was stunned and as soon as I could I excused myself from the table and began another conversation with someone else. I had just been discriminated against. Not for my gender, or my color, or my religion, but from the country that I was born and raised in. He highly offended me, and he didn't care one bit. And then my mind began to wonder--have I ever made blanket statements about another people group in that way? I certainly hope and pray not. But, I have heard others in my own country make remarks like that about folks from other countries. Why don't they speak English, why can't they read, why, why, why? I will tell you one thing, ever since that incident I have been so compassionate towards foreigners in my country. If I see them looking at maps, I help them. If they don't speak English I try to find someone who speaks their language. I love to travel to other countries and if it weren't for the many kindhearted people there to help me I don't know what I'd do. I get so excited when I am in Europe and I see a sign in English. It makes me wonder--why can't we put up a few more signs in different languages to help others in America? Would that be so hard? Can we show some compassion? Some understanding? Let's show some true American kindness--to our fellow countrymen, and to our foreign visitors, no matter their religion, skin color, gender or ethnic group. Let's love one another! Let's be like Jesus!
So these are just a few of my opinions. I have so many more. However, I do not believe that they are very important right now. If in the future I feel the need to write about them though I will, for now, that's all I've got.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Divine Encounters
I believe that if you look for them, they happen. Those divine encounters set up by God. I believe that if you pray if you are open if you are looking, and if you are willing to be used--they will occur. Such is the case of the last business trip I took with my husband.
I'm always praying and asking God to use me. I try hard to watch, to be aware of what is going on around me and to be ready, always ready. Ready for meeting new or old friends and ready to talk with them or listen to them, or to pray with them. The first encounter on this last trip was on the plane as we were flying to our destination. The poor man who just happened to be sitting next to us was a nervous flyer. As he was gripping the armrests and closing his eyes tight, I began to pray for him. He was a nervous wreck, squeezing his eyes tight against the horrific scenes being played out in his mind, I felt so sorry for him. He was embarrassed too, he looked over at us and apologized. We assured him that all was fine and that if he needed anything just to let us know. And then I did what I always do--I waited. And then he did what most people do--he began to talk. I told him that he had sat next to the right person and that I was available if he needed to talk, as I was a crisis counselor. I think he immediately began to feel just a little bit better, and we proceeded to talk throughout the flight. Unfortunately, we did hit a lot of turbulence due to some strong winds but as each bump was felt, he'd hang on tight and look to me to talk him through it. I learned a lot about him, he shared his life story with a stranger that day and that was perfectly fine with me--as I now know how to pray for this man for the rest of my life. And whether or not our paths ever cross again I think it's awesome that God cared enough to sit him next to someone who will always be praying for him.
Later the next evening after making dinner reservations with friends we decided to leave a little early and check out a particular area near our resort. We were waiting in line for the quick boat trip when my husband looked over and recognized a coworker whom we hadn't seen for a few years. His wife and I had become friends on a trip to Europe several years before, but had recently lost contact over the last year or so. I thought about her often and loved looking at the pictures of our trip. After getting reacquainted our friend told me how much it meant to his wife that I had stayed in touch with her. And then he told us something so sad that I had to fight back tears. Their son had passed away just a few short months before. He sat there on that little tour boat pouring out his heart. I immediately began to pray for him and his wife, I can't even imagine the terrible pain of losing a child. He asked me for my contact info again to give to his wife and I encouraged him to have her get in touch with me. That chance meeting was no accident. I will be praying for them--just as if I had lost one of my own children. My heart just breaks for them.
And then a couple of nights later as we sat having dinner with 2 other couples the topic of grand-parenting came up. Now, I'm an old hand at this grand-parenting thing, I'm a pro, really I am! I've been doing this gig for 10 years now. Add to that my degree in psychology and yes, yes, I do have something to bring to the table. Not advice, not corrective criticism either, but more like wisdom--a been there, done that mentality. I was able to sit, listen, evaluate and empathize. As I sat there listening to these 2 new grandmothers share their hearts I began to pray for them. I could understand their frustration and their hurt and I could hear the pain in their voices. Grand-parenting isn't the easiest thing in the world. But, either was parenting. So, I sat there listening to their woes, I nodded sympathetically, I uttered a reassuring word or two, and I even shared some of my own experiences. But, in the , nd I reminded them of what it was like for us as young moms. How we were indeed just as oblivious of hurting our parents as our children are now, how we wanted to do things our own way and how it was ok for us to make mistakes. How we did not need nor did we want unsolicited advice--especially not from the dreaded in-laws. We were adults, we were the parents and we were bound and determined to do things our own way.
It's ok for us grandmothers to get our feelings hurt, to get our feathers ruffled, and to whine about it to our husbands and friends, but in the end, it's important for us to keep those wonderful words of wisdom to ourselves. Our kids do not need nor do they want our advice. And low and behold--guess what? They are going to do just as good of a job at raising their child as we did with ours. I will pray for my friends, I will listen to them, I will advise them to hold their tongues, so that they can be the best parent/grandparent/in-law possible. We all need prayer in that area. It isn't easy to stop parenting your children even after they are all grown up and parenting their own. No, it isn't easy at all--but what in this life is easy when you think about it. Life is hard at times. However, we just can't take it so personally and if we desire a good relationship with our children we have to work at it. I assured them that if and when their kids ever needed them, they'd call.
I hope that I helped them in some small way. I hope they left dinner that evening feeling better about themselves. I hope they left feeling a little more positive about the life as a grandparent. It is a wonderful thing--grand-parenting. And the most important thing we can do as grandparents is to pray and the 2nd most important thing was can do is keep our mouths shut. Seriously--be quiet. And pray.
I watch for those special divine encounters. We board another plane this evening and I wonder...who will I meet? Who will I be asked to pray for? What will happen? I'll be ready!
I'm always praying and asking God to use me. I try hard to watch, to be aware of what is going on around me and to be ready, always ready. Ready for meeting new or old friends and ready to talk with them or listen to them, or to pray with them. The first encounter on this last trip was on the plane as we were flying to our destination. The poor man who just happened to be sitting next to us was a nervous flyer. As he was gripping the armrests and closing his eyes tight, I began to pray for him. He was a nervous wreck, squeezing his eyes tight against the horrific scenes being played out in his mind, I felt so sorry for him. He was embarrassed too, he looked over at us and apologized. We assured him that all was fine and that if he needed anything just to let us know. And then I did what I always do--I waited. And then he did what most people do--he began to talk. I told him that he had sat next to the right person and that I was available if he needed to talk, as I was a crisis counselor. I think he immediately began to feel just a little bit better, and we proceeded to talk throughout the flight. Unfortunately, we did hit a lot of turbulence due to some strong winds but as each bump was felt, he'd hang on tight and look to me to talk him through it. I learned a lot about him, he shared his life story with a stranger that day and that was perfectly fine with me--as I now know how to pray for this man for the rest of my life. And whether or not our paths ever cross again I think it's awesome that God cared enough to sit him next to someone who will always be praying for him.
Later the next evening after making dinner reservations with friends we decided to leave a little early and check out a particular area near our resort. We were waiting in line for the quick boat trip when my husband looked over and recognized a coworker whom we hadn't seen for a few years. His wife and I had become friends on a trip to Europe several years before, but had recently lost contact over the last year or so. I thought about her often and loved looking at the pictures of our trip. After getting reacquainted our friend told me how much it meant to his wife that I had stayed in touch with her. And then he told us something so sad that I had to fight back tears. Their son had passed away just a few short months before. He sat there on that little tour boat pouring out his heart. I immediately began to pray for him and his wife, I can't even imagine the terrible pain of losing a child. He asked me for my contact info again to give to his wife and I encouraged him to have her get in touch with me. That chance meeting was no accident. I will be praying for them--just as if I had lost one of my own children. My heart just breaks for them.
And then a couple of nights later as we sat having dinner with 2 other couples the topic of grand-parenting came up. Now, I'm an old hand at this grand-parenting thing, I'm a pro, really I am! I've been doing this gig for 10 years now. Add to that my degree in psychology and yes, yes, I do have something to bring to the table. Not advice, not corrective criticism either, but more like wisdom--a been there, done that mentality. I was able to sit, listen, evaluate and empathize. As I sat there listening to these 2 new grandmothers share their hearts I began to pray for them. I could understand their frustration and their hurt and I could hear the pain in their voices. Grand-parenting isn't the easiest thing in the world. But, either was parenting. So, I sat there listening to their woes, I nodded sympathetically, I uttered a reassuring word or two, and I even shared some of my own experiences. But, in the , nd I reminded them of what it was like for us as young moms. How we were indeed just as oblivious of hurting our parents as our children are now, how we wanted to do things our own way and how it was ok for us to make mistakes. How we did not need nor did we want unsolicited advice--especially not from the dreaded in-laws. We were adults, we were the parents and we were bound and determined to do things our own way.
It's ok for us grandmothers to get our feelings hurt, to get our feathers ruffled, and to whine about it to our husbands and friends, but in the end, it's important for us to keep those wonderful words of wisdom to ourselves. Our kids do not need nor do they want our advice. And low and behold--guess what? They are going to do just as good of a job at raising their child as we did with ours. I will pray for my friends, I will listen to them, I will advise them to hold their tongues, so that they can be the best parent/grandparent/in-law possible. We all need prayer in that area. It isn't easy to stop parenting your children even after they are all grown up and parenting their own. No, it isn't easy at all--but what in this life is easy when you think about it. Life is hard at times. However, we just can't take it so personally and if we desire a good relationship with our children we have to work at it. I assured them that if and when their kids ever needed them, they'd call.
I hope that I helped them in some small way. I hope they left dinner that evening feeling better about themselves. I hope they left feeling a little more positive about the life as a grandparent. It is a wonderful thing--grand-parenting. And the most important thing we can do as grandparents is to pray and the 2nd most important thing was can do is keep our mouths shut. Seriously--be quiet. And pray.
I watch for those special divine encounters. We board another plane this evening and I wonder...who will I meet? Who will I be asked to pray for? What will happen? I'll be ready!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)