Day 814
We'll see if I get this wrapped up today.
I had a funeral this morning I was supposed to attend
(nobody said I had to, but I put that pressure on myself). But I didn't go, figuring I will write the
widow, an older friend of mine, a letter instead. I'm not quite sure why I didn't go. I've been to other funerals since Paul's
death. But I didn't want to, so I
didn't. Maybe it was selfishness; maybe
it was trying to slow down in a week that
has been pretty insane, schedule-wise.
I'm going to have to swing by the eyeglass place tomorrow. This left lens is just not quite right.
I've been skipping a lot of church lately. It's not completely intentional. My last few Wednesday nights just have not
worked, schedule-wise and because of allergies.
Last night I had a monster of a headache. Besides, I am going to work in Patch club,
starting in a couple of weeks, so I know these weeks of Wed. night freedom are
drawing to a close. I'm staying home on
Sunday nights for a couple of months because our pastor has started a series on
marriage. I have no objection to that, I
think it's important. Families are the
backbone of the church and they are definitely under attack. But right now, I just can't sit through
studies on the importance and implementation of a biblical marriage. I told the kids it would be like if our dr.
told us we could no longer eat chocolate and we found out our church was going
to begin a series on the joys of chocolate - how to eat it, how to enjoy it
better, God's plan for chocolate in our lives...
Not happening.
So, anyway, with all the Wednesday night services we've
missed lately, we've gotten to watch the normal line-up on channel 5 (ABC?)
which is pretty good - "The Middle," "The Goldbergs," and
"Blackish," - the girls love that show. I think it's a little dumb, but they are
attracted to the color of the characters, which is fine. At least they're portrayed as an upper middle
class family, not gangbangers in the 'hood.
Last week I watched both "The Middle" and "The
Goldbergs" and both episodes dealt with the parents desiring to spend time
with their teen and college-age children - but the kids didn't have a real
interest in that - surprise, surprise...
It occurred to me that right now, I am always looking for
an "escape" from my Littles. I
can't even type on the computer without Lizzie leaning on my shoulders,
pressing my elbows into the keypad. I
don't dare send any of them to bed without tucking them in, and all day long I
hear, "Mom, Mom, Mom!"
It is exhausting.
But they grow too quickly. And soon I'll be in the shoes of the
characters on these made-up tv shows. I
already am with Will. I feel grateful
when he actually sits down and shares bits of his life with me. Grateful! And yet, I'm the one who got my gut cut open
for him, nursed him non-stop for his first year of life, and basically kept him
alive for those first few years...and now I'm in a position to be thankful for
any scraps of time that he deigns to throw my way.
It's the way it goes, I guess, the natural order of
things. Kids have to separate from their
parents in order to become adults and later, decent spouses and parents to
their own children. But it sometimes
seems unfair that the one (me) who gave so much gradually gets pushed out of
the way altogether.
Anyway, it makes me think I probably shouldn't cringe so
much when the Littles' demands on my time and attention seem so onerous. It's not going to last.
***************************
A couple of weeks ago the football legend, Frank Gifford,
died. I had never heard of him until I
was in my early twenties and working and the "Regis and Kathy Lee"
show would be on at work. Anyway, he
died of old age and Kathy was back at her post on the Today show. She made a very God-honoring tribute to her
late husband that morning and I thought she did a great job of holding herself
together.
But then I began to see some criticism on the internet of
the fact that she was back to work after only 8 days. Some were accusing her of not being very
feeling or appropriate. Give me a
break!
I can tell those criticizing idiots why she was back at
work so soon. When your world has been
shaken to its core you desire stability and return to familiarity just as
quickly as you can manage to get your feet back up and moving, supporting your
weight. Anything that is slightly
familiar is clung to with the grip of a toddler on toy. Getting back into any sort of routine or
engaging in activities that happened before the loss are NOT an indication of
one's heart. They are simply a way of
surviving.
******************************
Sometime last week Lizzie accused Sam of pushing
Ben. Sam looked at her and commented,
"Nuh, uh - the only people I would push on purpose are you and
Ellie!"
I guess he gets points for honesty!
The other night a friend, who is really, really good with
my kids, invited us all over for supper.
I had told the Littles we were going, but they didn't realize I was
planning on going, too. When they found
out, Sam expressed his disappointment and explained, "Things just aren't
as fun when you're around!"
I'm feeling loved.
***********************************
I'm still puzzling out something that happened to me last
Friday. Last week I read an article
written by a friend in which she touched on the topic of bitterness. She mentioned how it is so easy for her to
ruminate on wrongs done to her. Boy, can
I relate! I wonder if it's a female
thing. I'll pull out these offenses and
rub them over and over again in my mind, like I'm polishing a stone or
something. Even if I try to think about
other things, my mind keeps going back to what was done to me.
A lot of Christians blithely advise others that they just
"need to forgive" but I've never completely bought into that theory,
either. How do you forgive someone who
doesn't ask for forgiveness? How do you
forgive someone who isn't even sorry? I
was really glad a few years ago when our church did a video series by a
gentleman who backed me up. His belief
was that, as Christians, we need to be in a place of being willing to
forgive the offender, but forgiveness is a two-way endeavor and can't happen
until asked for.
My friend said that she finally began praying for those
that had offended her when these
thoughts would come. It's not a huge
secret that a lot wrong has been done to me by Paul's family since his death,
particularly. It has been very easy for
me to dwell on this, partially I would imagine because it's been so
devastatingly painful for me. A few
months ago it occurred to me that I need to be cautious, lest I end up just as
bitter as they are. I definitely don't
want that kind of disease in my spiritual and emotional life. I've actually made a lot of progress in
recent months of simply letting go and walking away. Just recently I was talking with my pastor's
wife about this and finally admitting to her that I don't think reconciliation
is going to happen and she agreed with me.
At the same time, though, I've been praying that reconciliation will
occur and that it will be so deep and so miraculous and genuine that it is
obvious to all that this has come about solely because of God.
So anyway, I chewed over my friend's words and last
Thursday night as I was driving the old, familiar hurts rose up in my
mind. But this time I immediately began
praying and it wasn't, "Lord - show them where they are totally wrong and
make them want to make this right!"
Rather I was able to actually pray for them in a manner that had nothing
to do with what they have done to me. I
can't describe the peace that washed over me right then.
That's not to say I've suddenly got this whole
being-offended thing right. I'm still
hurt. They're still wrong. I still need to stick to my guns about the proper
method of reconciliation. I still need
to observe the protective boundaries I've erected around the children and
myself. But it's progress. All along I've been sure they need to change
- and they do. But maybe there was a
part of me that needed to change, too.
So, that was Thursday.
Friday, my jaw about hit the f loor when the kids announced that
"someone is here" and I walked out to the kitchen and it was Paul's
brother, Mike, and his family. I haven't
seen them since about two weeks after the funeral. They have not been offensive and done
anything hurtful. They just haven't done
anything at all - which is hurtful in a situation like this, but it's pretty
par for the course with them. There's
never been a, "Thinking of you" note on FB or anything like
that. But, they haven't accused me of
manslaughter/causing Paul's dad's heart attacks/desiring to kill his parents,
either...so, it is what it is with them.
My first thought was to wonder if this was an answer to
my prayers the night before. I honestly
don't know if it was or not. Nonetheless,
I found the visit encouraging, if a bit weird.
I was concerned that they would desire to talk about the situation with
the rest of the family, but they didn't, and I wasn't about to bring it up,
myself! So we chatted about
non-important things and after about a half hour, they left.
All of this has me saying, hmmm....
I don't know. I
just really don't.
A couple of days later I swung by the cemetary because I
had a couple of things to drop off at the grave. I found some antlers pinned to the ground
beside the grave marker and I knew Mike had been there. It was perfect. He and Paul had hunted together from the time
they were children. I wonder why we
never thought to put anything about hunting up there? That was such a big part of his life. But it seems fitting that they came from his
brother.
***********************************
Recently, I wrote about all these dire prophecies and
predictions I'm hearing right now regarding the end of the world, a coming
financial crisis, and so on. I'm not
joining the clamor, but neither am I completely ignorant, either. I'm watching.
Well, this week my "No Greater Joy"
newsletter/magazine arrived. It's put
out by the Pearls and while I don't agree with all their parenting advice, I do
find the biblical teaching pretty solid.
This very subject was addressed.
One thing they pointed out was Luke 21: 25-27
And there shall be signs in the sun, and in
the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with
perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; men's hearts failing them for fear,
and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the
powers of heaven shall be shaken. And
then shall they see the Son of man coming in a cloud iwth power and great
glory.
Their point was that we should not panic, but the dread
we are seeing today amongst Christians is a sign itself that something is
coming.
So, we'll see, I guess.
******************************
I mentioned yesterday about our experience at the fair -
how it was a less than fun time. You
want to know what else ruined it for me?
I was wandering around the quilts.
Quilting is an art that I completely admire, mostly because I know there
is no way I'll ever be able to do it myself.
There's a whole lot of work that goes into those things. One I saw was pink and had a
"horse" theme. It had pictures
of horses screenprinted onto fabric which was then quilted. The binding and background were all done with
a "horsey" fabric. The maker even quilted
the word, "horses" onto her work of art, just in case the viewer
didn't quite grasp the theme.
Only, she quilted, "HORSE'S"
Ruined...completely ruined...
I was telling this story to Kathy the other day and she
laughed and said, "Only you, Sarah - only you!"
I don't think it's only me.
And a postscript...at tonight's school open house, I had a letter from one of the kids' teachers that began, "Dear Parent's," No, no, NO-O-O!!!
***********************************
Yesterday Sam and the 12 year old neighbor kid asked if I
had any spray paint with which they could paint their scooters. I didn't see any harm in it so I let them
have some, warning them to spray away from the garage. They agreed and it wasn't too much later that
they were zipping down the alley on their freshly painted scooters. All was fine until I happened to look at the
cement slab in front of the garage.
Those rotten kids had written their name in spray paint! They also wrote the names of several of their
siblings! It looks like gang symbols are
all over the parking area now.
NOT happy...
I dealt with Sam and when that kid came back I confronted
him (nicely) and he miserably told me he was sorry. He added, "It seems like I'm always
saying that, but I really do mean it!"
This is the same kid that planted his big bare foot on my freshly
painted back steps - after I had just used the last of the paint and it seems
like he did a couple of other things this summer, too, that I can't remember
now.
That cracked me up.
I didn't show it, though. I have
a fairly good idea of what his home life is like and I suspect I may be the only adult in his life that
extends him grace, so I'm trying to be nice here.
**************************
I took Sam and Lizzie to the open house at school
tonight. I am having a bit of an
internal freak-out, but trying to remain calm.
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Well, I can, but I can't. What am
I thinking?
The other night I had dinner with three ladies in my
writing group before our meeting started.
I shared with them how I had just read a statistic the night before that
only FIVE percent of children who go through the public school system retain
their Christian faith after graduation.
Now, granted, this was in a homeschool publication that I read
this. I have no idea where the author
got his figure. I expected the ladies to
immediately assure me that that number had to be way off base. Instead, each of them nodded and commented
about how they each had a child who, for a time at least, had walked away from
his faith. Argh! What am I doing?
I know there are no guarantees. I graduated from a Christian school and not
all who professed Christ in my class still walk with Him today. I can point to several public school kids in
my church youth group who, thirty years later, have a vibrant walk with the
Lord. A couple I think of even became
pastor's wives.
I know it's not all about the schooling. Home life and parenting, along with
self-will, have an awful lot to do with how a child turns out, too.
This summer God brought a couple of people into Will's
life at camp with whom he was able to connect and get advice as he plans his
future. One was a public school teacher
who has seven kids, all of whom are homeschooled presently, but he's hoping to
change that. He pointed out to Will that
public schools are a wide-open mission field and have only gotten darker as
Christian parents have largely pulled their kids out. But then I am reminded of all the homeschool
speakers I've heard who assert that our kids will not change the darkness; the
darkness will change them.
I know this is temporary freak out session. I am not forgetting the peace that has long
accompanied this decision to enroll the kids.
Despite the flurry of misgivings I am having at this very moment, I
really don't doubt this decision. It's
right for right now.
I am not deciding the course of their entire
education. I am deciding it for right
now. For a first and second grade
year. That's all.
It just seemed so official tonight - meeting the
teachers, putting their things in their desks and lockers (they're mini-lockers
located in their classrooms - so cute!), signing up for class party treats,
reserving a slot for parent/teacher conferences, walking through the doors and
down to the rooms a second time just so the kids will be confident on Monday
that they know where they are going...
I'm handing them over to someone else.
I hope they value them the way I do.
.
Nope. You're not the only one. That is not a greeting. It is two words put together. Dear Parent's.....what? What's next?
ReplyDeleteAnd, is it a wonder that the girl's quilt was wrong when even teachers don't know?
This is my take on forgiveness. We are called to forgive everyone. But that doesn't mean we set aside boundaries, it doesn't mean we "forgive and forget." I think it means taking a very hurtful situation and saying to God, "Lord, it is in your hands. You take care of this. You bless these people and guide them towards your truth." It is startling to read, in Psalms, how David says some really rough things about his enemies -- things like, may their children be begging bread, may their lives be cursed. It sounds so -- un-Christian -- and I don't understand it entirely. BUT, here was a guy with God's hand on him and I think he was just saying, honestly -- I'm angry, Lord, and I want you to take care of it. He was amazingly self controlled about not attacking King Saul personally. He wanted the Lord to take care of it.
ReplyDeleteRe school, I think in your last blog post you said something like "I just can't do this right now." I really believe, as human beings, we need to respect our own limitations. There are times when I push push push because I "ought" to do something, or think I should. And when I step back, and pray, I realize the Lord is giving me rest and I can give up a particular activity or task for a season. We just stopped going to a local American Heritage Girls troop (which is a great organization) because I am just pushed to my LIMIT and that was one thing I needed to drop, for a season. Children do thrive in ps. You prayed, and felt God's peace. This is the right decision for this season. God bless them, and you, during the transition time. (And, a soapbox issue for me is HOMEWORK, which I think it totally inappropriate for young ones. I hope you'll mention in your blog what the homework burden is. Where we live, the local ps kids have a lot.) Ok -- this is a long comment. And I'll sign off.