I really like Facebook. I'm a bit surprised how much I like it but it's great to keep up with friends especially the ones that I don't get to see very often. I love looking at the pictures that my friends post of their kids. It's wonderful to see how their families have grown. I'm happy for them. After all the work they've put into their families, that their almost adult children are still bringing them pleasure and excitement for the adventure that is their future, makes me realize the worth of all the hard work and prayer. Some of my friends have become grandparents already - YIKES! It is fun to see them with their grand babies and more fun to see what they have decided to be called. Gone are the days of Gramma and Grampa. I wonder who I will end up being.
What I don't like about Facebook is how many times I've felt like almost everyone is having more fun than I am. I have almost always thought that everyone else's family has more fun than our family. I think son #2 feels the same. I don't know what makes one family more fun than another. I don't know what makes a family more cool than another either. I don't think we are unreasonable parents and I try to be as welcoming as I can be. Maybe I don't have enough junk food. Maybe the house isn't big enough. I don't know. Maybe it's the moving. We just haven't established relationships with our children's friends and therefore have very few really close relationships with them. Maybe that will change the longer we are here. I hope so.
But I really wonder if my feelings of inadequacy in the area of fun will ever change. I'm really not bothered by much but I am bothered by this. Maybe I've let my kids get under my skin. I don't know. All I know is that I want to be more fun. Maybe I need to figure out the definition of fun first. I am not sure what that is. Anyone that's read my 25 Random things will know that I don't use the word fun very much. The definition of that word is not very broad to me and there aren't many things that I think are fun. Maybe that is the foundation of my problem. Maybe I'm too serious. Michael accused me of that years ago, many years ago. I guess I've not fixed the problem still.
Looking back on my childhood though, I'm not sure I had a lot of fun. I have a tremendous amount of adventure and experiences. To be honest, it wasn't an easy life but I'd only give up the poor decisions I made as a teenager. Most of my upbringing helped mold me and led me to the place that I am today and for the most part (except for fat thighs) I'm pretty happy with me.
So maybe I need to keep my eyes open for how to be more fun. I definitely think choosing Buffalo Wild Wings over Arbys is more fun (sorry boys but I had nothing to do with that decision). So, being that I recognize this gives me hope.
I rarely see the fun in things. I see implications, consequences, situations... I need to spin fun. That will be my challenge. I think I am going to work at that seriously - no, bad choice of words... I'm going to work hard at seeing the fun in what goes on in this house. I'll let you know what I come up with. Pray for me - pray for my kids. Who'd have thought that having fun would be such a hard thing...
Friday, February 20, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Refi Reveal
So we have been going out of our minds working to get everything we've ever wanted to do to our house done. We've done months worth of work in 5 days. There were breaks for church, school activities, basketball games, and of course, Valentine's Day. But none of those breaks were rest for me because I just spent my time thinking about what I needed to do. I really couldn't enjoy myself and that's not a good thing - ever.
We've been working like this because we are refinancing the house. It's a good deal for us but we didn't really have a huge interest rate to begin with. The only problem is that appraisals aren't what they used to be. The appraiser made it very clear what he was going to look for and that it wasn't going to be any different than an appraisal for a house that was going on the market next week. UGH! It's not that we have a problem with that... well, we do have a problem with that, after all, it's not like we are putting our house on the market next week. Actually, we are hoping that God would see us as permanent residents here just as we do. We don't see ourselves moving any time soon (I've said that before...). So we felt like we should just dive head first into everything and just finish it all now.
I have been painting for days on end. I love to paint - rooms that is. I will leave the artistic stuff to my friend Molly and my mom. But I am officially sick of it. One day I was painting over the marks left by the two bathroom mirrors that Michael ripped - literally - off the wall. There was much patching and sanding that evening and after hours of drying the wall could be painted in preparation for two beautiful framed mirrors just perfect for the room. I thought about that appraiser and all that he was going to be looking for. It's not like he's going to ask us to take those mirrors down to prove that the wall is in perfect condition behind the mirrors. Actually, he's going to assume that wall is perfect because it looks so good from in front of the mirror. The truth is that the wall is fine but even with two coats of paint you can still see the nine places where the drywall had to be fixed.
Those marks on the wall can be hidden from anyone who looks at the finished room. But we know the truth. Behind the beautiful mirrors now hanging above the sinks are walls with permanent damage. I wondered how many times I appeared like that to people. The reality is that I am very good at being "beautiful". Not beautiful as you and I may define it but "beautiful" in the sense that no one would know if there was anything "ugly" going on in my life.
No matter how hard anyone tries though, God knows. We can't hide it from Him. Just as Michael and I know the truth behind the mirrors, God knows the truth behind our smiles. It's rare that I have days like that. I've lived long enough that I put just about everything into perspective and rarely let things so alter my state of being that I have to fake a smile. But I know a lot of people who do. It's a sad thing. Either they don't feel secure enough in any of their relationships to let someone in, or they don't believe God knows their heart. Either way it's a tough road to walk. We can only hide our true selves for so long. Eventually God will reveal the truth to those around us. It's our job to not let it get to that point.
We've been working like this because we are refinancing the house. It's a good deal for us but we didn't really have a huge interest rate to begin with. The only problem is that appraisals aren't what they used to be. The appraiser made it very clear what he was going to look for and that it wasn't going to be any different than an appraisal for a house that was going on the market next week. UGH! It's not that we have a problem with that... well, we do have a problem with that, after all, it's not like we are putting our house on the market next week. Actually, we are hoping that God would see us as permanent residents here just as we do. We don't see ourselves moving any time soon (I've said that before...). So we felt like we should just dive head first into everything and just finish it all now.
I have been painting for days on end. I love to paint - rooms that is. I will leave the artistic stuff to my friend Molly and my mom. But I am officially sick of it. One day I was painting over the marks left by the two bathroom mirrors that Michael ripped - literally - off the wall. There was much patching and sanding that evening and after hours of drying the wall could be painted in preparation for two beautiful framed mirrors just perfect for the room. I thought about that appraiser and all that he was going to be looking for. It's not like he's going to ask us to take those mirrors down to prove that the wall is in perfect condition behind the mirrors. Actually, he's going to assume that wall is perfect because it looks so good from in front of the mirror. The truth is that the wall is fine but even with two coats of paint you can still see the nine places where the drywall had to be fixed.
Those marks on the wall can be hidden from anyone who looks at the finished room. But we know the truth. Behind the beautiful mirrors now hanging above the sinks are walls with permanent damage. I wondered how many times I appeared like that to people. The reality is that I am very good at being "beautiful". Not beautiful as you and I may define it but "beautiful" in the sense that no one would know if there was anything "ugly" going on in my life.
No matter how hard anyone tries though, God knows. We can't hide it from Him. Just as Michael and I know the truth behind the mirrors, God knows the truth behind our smiles. It's rare that I have days like that. I've lived long enough that I put just about everything into perspective and rarely let things so alter my state of being that I have to fake a smile. But I know a lot of people who do. It's a sad thing. Either they don't feel secure enough in any of their relationships to let someone in, or they don't believe God knows their heart. Either way it's a tough road to walk. We can only hide our true selves for so long. Eventually God will reveal the truth to those around us. It's our job to not let it get to that point.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The Coach
Today was an interesting day at church. To say I was tired is an understatement. I have got to set some kind of rule for myself regarding when I go to bed on Saturday nights. Being that tired just isn't fair to my family or to God. Consequently, I was almost unconscious for most of the service. I sort of felt "dreamy". At one point, our worship pastor was introducing a song and telling us, the congregation, that this was our time to lay ourselves at God's feet. To come to the alter to pray. And only a few notes into his song, people came. It was a wonderful thing to see my brothers and sisters in Christ make themselves vulnerable. Some of them I knew well and I knew exactly what they were beseeching God for. A husband went forward and hit his knees. I was almost in tears as I watched his wife come after him, almost running to embrace him while he prayed. I prayed for them, hoping that he was asking God to build their marriage into what it was "before". Then the teenager came. He was a tall, extremely handsome young man. I only know him to see him. Not much about his family but the youth group had just returned from a retreat, I was hoping he was laying himself before the Lord, committing all he is to Him. Then she came, the girl who finds herself at the alter every time it's "open". The girl who goes down front to "recommit" her life every time it's suggested. I want to run to her and put my arms around her and ask her who in her life is making her feel so insecure. The young daughter of a friend of mine rushes to her mother's side at the alter. It's the most precious thing I've ever seen. She may not even know what her mom is praying about but she knows that her mother needs someone to stand with her, to lift her prayers to heaven with her. I feel my eyes begin to well up at this point... except... my eyes are drawn to strong, powerful hands raised to the sky in the front row.
It's the coach. To be honest, I don't know this man at all. But the incredible thing is, I don't have to. Everyone knows his booming voice. Everyone knows when he's in the building. A believer on the other side of the world would recognize him as a brother in Christ just by the look on his face. Even if he's not smiling, the joy of the Lord flows from his eyes.
I have a great friend who's the pastor's secretary. I was in her office one day when the coach came in to say hello. Being there for the 10 minutes he visited was one of the best days of my life; hands down. He quoted scripture with such authority and confidence. He laughed as he shared about a discussion with a total stranger and marveled at how the Holy Spirit could lead even him to someone who needed to hear the Word of God. He loves being a child of God and you could tell that his entire being constantly praised Him. I even wonder if his blood cells cried out praises to God.
He left as joyously as he came in. The coach, according to my friend, was going through some struggles. Some things were going on at the school he coached at and it's not been easy on him. She didn't go into detail. I was floored. HE? THAT GUY? The COACH was having some serious issues? "You have got to be kidding?" I said. She smiled, she knows him far better than I. Apparently that's his "blue" demeanor.
What a challenge that man is to me. As I watched from across the sanctuary I saw a man who raised his hands to the Lord with such all-encompassing love and devotion that I wasn't sure if he was raising his hands or wrapping them around his Savior's neck. My tears and sadness for those at the alter almost immediately dried up. The coach had me laughing under my breath. Had I not caught myself, I'd have laughed out loud. I suddenly looked at those people at the alter and realized that all of them, regardless of what they were beseeching God for, if they truly understood who God is, would soon be sitting with the coach on the front row lifting their hands high to their Holy, Heavenly Father. They too would realize that in spite of their heavy hearts, their Father was right there with them lightening their load.
It's the coach. To be honest, I don't know this man at all. But the incredible thing is, I don't have to. Everyone knows his booming voice. Everyone knows when he's in the building. A believer on the other side of the world would recognize him as a brother in Christ just by the look on his face. Even if he's not smiling, the joy of the Lord flows from his eyes.
I have a great friend who's the pastor's secretary. I was in her office one day when the coach came in to say hello. Being there for the 10 minutes he visited was one of the best days of my life; hands down. He quoted scripture with such authority and confidence. He laughed as he shared about a discussion with a total stranger and marveled at how the Holy Spirit could lead even him to someone who needed to hear the Word of God. He loves being a child of God and you could tell that his entire being constantly praised Him. I even wonder if his blood cells cried out praises to God.
He left as joyously as he came in. The coach, according to my friend, was going through some struggles. Some things were going on at the school he coached at and it's not been easy on him. She didn't go into detail. I was floored. HE? THAT GUY? The COACH was having some serious issues? "You have got to be kidding?" I said. She smiled, she knows him far better than I. Apparently that's his "blue" demeanor.
What a challenge that man is to me. As I watched from across the sanctuary I saw a man who raised his hands to the Lord with such all-encompassing love and devotion that I wasn't sure if he was raising his hands or wrapping them around his Savior's neck. My tears and sadness for those at the alter almost immediately dried up. The coach had me laughing under my breath. Had I not caught myself, I'd have laughed out loud. I suddenly looked at those people at the alter and realized that all of them, regardless of what they were beseeching God for, if they truly understood who God is, would soon be sitting with the coach on the front row lifting their hands high to their Holy, Heavenly Father. They too would realize that in spite of their heavy hearts, their Father was right there with them lightening their load.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
A Bit Disappointing...
One of my dearest friends, one of my oldest friends lives in Texas. She wasn't born or raised there but she has lived there so long that I feel like she belongs there. I love Texas. My favorite state I've never lived in. Thankfully not only does she live there but some of Michael's family does as well. I don't get to go as much as I'd like but when I can, I jump on the opportunity.
A couple years ago, when my friend was living in The Woodlands, I was visiting. Her oldest son was a senior and he punted for the public high school football team (forgive me if he was a kicker, I know the difference I just can't remember which exactly he was). He wasn't the starter and that was a sore subject all around. There were many reasons the starter shouldn't have been the starter, one of them was talent but for several reasons that caused the word "unfair" to raise it's ugly head, the starter was who he was. I remember watching her son practice one day and marveled at the fact that he actually looked like a ballet dancer. His body and foot had a specific position and when he kicked/punted the ball he leaped into the air beautifully. I was amazed. I couldn't imagine someone performing better than he did. His mom, my friend, was so upset and he was so disappointed. I, was shocked.
Shocked because it didn't seem like her to be that emotional over a teenager's disappointment. After all, this is one of those things that will build his character and make him a better person and a better athlete. She knew that but still, she was so sad for him. They tried different things to help him improve or spoke to different people to help them see his talent. She told me how she would pray and pray for God to allow something to happen on that field that would build his confidence and enable him to see some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. But to no avail. Things really never changed for him on the football field.
Tonight, I was sitting in a very hot bath. Oh, it is one of the best times of day for me when I can sink deep in the tub and let the cares of the day float into the air with the steam. My relaxation was interrupted by my husband returning from a praise team practice with my second son. He plays drums for the youth and has come a long way just in the last several months. We are all proud of him for his perseverance and they are happy to have a drummer. Tonight he was practicing for a retreat and although, over all, the practice went well, he was a little shy about the team leader who is a guest and not familiar with everyone. This guy was a great guy but he was honest with Sam about how he was rushing the beat. Over and over, Sam was rushing. When Sam tried to slow down, he wasn't loud enough. Eventually, Sam got so discouraged that by the time he came home he went into the bathroom and cried. As Michael told me of these events I had an instant flashback to sitting on the bleachers with my Texas friend watching her son kick a football like a star only to realize he wasn't the star. Regardless of what we saw, the coach didn't see a star.
Sam doesn't have that competition, his disappointment and frustration is different. And he has a lot going on in his life besides drumming that are pushing him to the limit. But what caught me off guard was the immediate desire... no need... to rid his little mind of the negative feelings that he had. Even while writing this he came in and laid down on the bed with me and just wanted me to hold him. That scenario is different these days since he's now 1/2" under 6 ft and 180 lbs. But he wanted consoling none-the-less. And we sat there together and I watched - the tears streaming down his cheeks. Intellectually I know that this is a good thing. They all, we all, need times of trial to build our character. But as the mom, even a mom like me who can see these things as good things that God can move in and mold in, I cringe at that pain that accompanies the pruning. The words I wanted to utter, the battle between my heart and my mind was so severe that I wasn't sure which would win. In the end, my mind won. But my heart won too. Even now, minutes after a good cry and his mom loving on him for awhile. Sam doesn't seem so sad. He's more resigned than enthusiastic but that's OK. God can use that and work with that and as usual, I believe he'll come back from his retreat feeling much more encouraged than he thought was possible.
This, in the end, will be a good thing for both of us. It's just hard to be in the middle of it.
A couple years ago, when my friend was living in The Woodlands, I was visiting. Her oldest son was a senior and he punted for the public high school football team (forgive me if he was a kicker, I know the difference I just can't remember which exactly he was). He wasn't the starter and that was a sore subject all around. There were many reasons the starter shouldn't have been the starter, one of them was talent but for several reasons that caused the word "unfair" to raise it's ugly head, the starter was who he was. I remember watching her son practice one day and marveled at the fact that he actually looked like a ballet dancer. His body and foot had a specific position and when he kicked/punted the ball he leaped into the air beautifully. I was amazed. I couldn't imagine someone performing better than he did. His mom, my friend, was so upset and he was so disappointed. I, was shocked.
Shocked because it didn't seem like her to be that emotional over a teenager's disappointment. After all, this is one of those things that will build his character and make him a better person and a better athlete. She knew that but still, she was so sad for him. They tried different things to help him improve or spoke to different people to help them see his talent. She told me how she would pray and pray for God to allow something to happen on that field that would build his confidence and enable him to see some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. But to no avail. Things really never changed for him on the football field.
Tonight, I was sitting in a very hot bath. Oh, it is one of the best times of day for me when I can sink deep in the tub and let the cares of the day float into the air with the steam. My relaxation was interrupted by my husband returning from a praise team practice with my second son. He plays drums for the youth and has come a long way just in the last several months. We are all proud of him for his perseverance and they are happy to have a drummer. Tonight he was practicing for a retreat and although, over all, the practice went well, he was a little shy about the team leader who is a guest and not familiar with everyone. This guy was a great guy but he was honest with Sam about how he was rushing the beat. Over and over, Sam was rushing. When Sam tried to slow down, he wasn't loud enough. Eventually, Sam got so discouraged that by the time he came home he went into the bathroom and cried. As Michael told me of these events I had an instant flashback to sitting on the bleachers with my Texas friend watching her son kick a football like a star only to realize he wasn't the star. Regardless of what we saw, the coach didn't see a star.
Sam doesn't have that competition, his disappointment and frustration is different. And he has a lot going on in his life besides drumming that are pushing him to the limit. But what caught me off guard was the immediate desire... no need... to rid his little mind of the negative feelings that he had. Even while writing this he came in and laid down on the bed with me and just wanted me to hold him. That scenario is different these days since he's now 1/2" under 6 ft and 180 lbs. But he wanted consoling none-the-less. And we sat there together and I watched - the tears streaming down his cheeks. Intellectually I know that this is a good thing. They all, we all, need times of trial to build our character. But as the mom, even a mom like me who can see these things as good things that God can move in and mold in, I cringe at that pain that accompanies the pruning. The words I wanted to utter, the battle between my heart and my mind was so severe that I wasn't sure which would win. In the end, my mind won. But my heart won too. Even now, minutes after a good cry and his mom loving on him for awhile. Sam doesn't seem so sad. He's more resigned than enthusiastic but that's OK. God can use that and work with that and as usual, I believe he'll come back from his retreat feeling much more encouraged than he thought was possible.
This, in the end, will be a good thing for both of us. It's just hard to be in the middle of it.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A Curse?
I wondered if this would happen. When I started this blog, I felt only hours after my first post, that this was going to be a curse. My mind was racing with thoughts and ideas. Topics were whizzing by me like a Nascar race and I spent several evenings deeper in thought than conscience. Today, nothing. It's not that nothing happened, plenty happened. I managed to get through my Precept study on Romans feeling like I contributed something worthwhile. I discovered that Romans 7 isn't my favorite chapter. After all, when Chapters 8 and 9 are waiting for my total consumption, Romans 7 just seems to me like Paul trying to bang his head against a wall convincing regenerate Jews that the Law isn't going to save them. But then again, he doesn't think they should totally dismiss it either, he was very clear about that. Romans 7 seemed to me to be the pesky wait I have to endure after ordering my food. Now 8, that is an appetizer and 9 well, for me, that is going to be my medium-cooked steak straight from Ruth's Chris!
Then I raced to the elementary school library to help shelve books. I love doing that. I am not quite sure why. One reason may be because Mrs. Wilson, the librarian has the gift of encouragement. So do I. Problem is, I rarely find the ability to encourage myself, thus, Mrs. Wilson is vital to my ego. Thanks to her, I leave, every Wednesday, feeling like I did something so important that the school will go on another day just because I was there. Another reason I think I like it so much is that it's quiet - very quiet. And I like being able to do something that frankly, I can't screw up!
Then I left for my dentist appointment. I love the dentist. Well, I did until today. I am realizing that my teeth are aging as much as I am. My teeth are very important to me. I will never have dentures - I refuse. If I ever have to have my teeth pulled out they will replace each tooth with individual teeth shoved up in my gums that don't come out and look real. I don't care if it costs me my retirement account (well, Michael's retirement account, but then, I don't think he really wants me to have the ability to remove my teeth in front of him- it sort of takes the romance out of the relationship. Knowing him, he'll happily live in a car until we die if I keep my teeth in). But today, I about came out of my seat. I have sensitive teeth. AND I love iced tea. Sound like the two don't mix? Well let me assure you that I know of no greater pain than the intense scraping that goes on behind my lower front teeth to get the stains off. I had a short, very short, moment of insanity and almost verbalized my thought at that moment. "I promise to give up tea if you promise you will never scrape my teeth like that again!" But never fear (and I must emphasize this to my friend Pam) I quickly came to my senses and never let the words escape my very parched lips. My teeth are now beautifully cleaned and white. And my lips didn't stay parched very long as I had a Route 44 unsweet tea with extra ice waiting in the car for me when my appointment was over.
From there I went home ready to face the brood of vipers, er, I mean children waiting for me to arrive and vomit their list of demands, er, I mean loving inquiries of me before I whisked them off to church for Wednesday evening activities. As usual, the evening went uphill from there because for me, there are few places I'd rather be than at church. I had a wonderful evening, got home in time to get those two little ones off to bed and sit down with the two big ones and watch a few gory, TV shows about horrible people that do nasty things to other people and the detectives that catch them and put them away forever.
All-in-all, a perfectly wonderful day. The downside was that Michael got stuck in Chicago and didn't fly out in time to catch his connection in Charlotte. He's sleeping as we speak in an airport hotel with no clean clothes and some disposable hotel toothbrush. At least when I see him tomorrow, his breath with be minty fresh.... Oh, the silver lining... I knew I could find one!
Hmmm, I guess I really don't have writer's block!
Then I raced to the elementary school library to help shelve books. I love doing that. I am not quite sure why. One reason may be because Mrs. Wilson, the librarian has the gift of encouragement. So do I. Problem is, I rarely find the ability to encourage myself, thus, Mrs. Wilson is vital to my ego. Thanks to her, I leave, every Wednesday, feeling like I did something so important that the school will go on another day just because I was there. Another reason I think I like it so much is that it's quiet - very quiet. And I like being able to do something that frankly, I can't screw up!
Then I left for my dentist appointment. I love the dentist. Well, I did until today. I am realizing that my teeth are aging as much as I am. My teeth are very important to me. I will never have dentures - I refuse. If I ever have to have my teeth pulled out they will replace each tooth with individual teeth shoved up in my gums that don't come out and look real. I don't care if it costs me my retirement account (well, Michael's retirement account, but then, I don't think he really wants me to have the ability to remove my teeth in front of him- it sort of takes the romance out of the relationship. Knowing him, he'll happily live in a car until we die if I keep my teeth in). But today, I about came out of my seat. I have sensitive teeth. AND I love iced tea. Sound like the two don't mix? Well let me assure you that I know of no greater pain than the intense scraping that goes on behind my lower front teeth to get the stains off. I had a short, very short, moment of insanity and almost verbalized my thought at that moment. "I promise to give up tea if you promise you will never scrape my teeth like that again!" But never fear (and I must emphasize this to my friend Pam) I quickly came to my senses and never let the words escape my very parched lips. My teeth are now beautifully cleaned and white. And my lips didn't stay parched very long as I had a Route 44 unsweet tea with extra ice waiting in the car for me when my appointment was over.
From there I went home ready to face the brood of vipers, er, I mean children waiting for me to arrive and vomit their list of demands, er, I mean loving inquiries of me before I whisked them off to church for Wednesday evening activities. As usual, the evening went uphill from there because for me, there are few places I'd rather be than at church. I had a wonderful evening, got home in time to get those two little ones off to bed and sit down with the two big ones and watch a few gory, TV shows about horrible people that do nasty things to other people and the detectives that catch them and put them away forever.
All-in-all, a perfectly wonderful day. The downside was that Michael got stuck in Chicago and didn't fly out in time to catch his connection in Charlotte. He's sleeping as we speak in an airport hotel with no clean clothes and some disposable hotel toothbrush. At least when I see him tomorrow, his breath with be minty fresh.... Oh, the silver lining... I knew I could find one!
Hmmm, I guess I really don't have writer's block!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Love Notes
I wrote a love note to a teenage boy tonight. It wasn't even to one of MY teenagers. It was to my son Sam's best friend. I know what you are thinking, that you are a little concerned. Don't be. It was totally appropriate. It was a scary thing to do though. After all, as a mom of teen boys, I don't want to appear to be as involved in their lives as I really am. If only they knew. But barring them reading this blog (and it's not been on their priority list) they have no idea how much I really know. I plan on keeping it that way as long as possible. Or at least until they move out and except for occasional background checks, (dad is an FBI agent) they are out of my sight!
My love note was appropriate and necessary. Sam's bff is having as rough a time as anyone could. None of it is his doing and none of it, from the world's perspective, is going to end well. Apart from a miraculous intervention from God (and of course He can choose to do that if He wants) it will appear to him that nothing good could possibly come from all the suffering that his family is experiencing. Right now, he doubts everyone and everything. And, he should - from the perspective of a 15 year old young man. But he needs someone who loves him almost as much as his dad does to remind him of unconditional love. And that he's got people committed to him for life regardless of how he feels right now. He needs to understand that no one is watching him with a note pad recording what he says and does and qualifying his behavior in order to report what a good or bad boy he is and whether he's worthy of my love or the love of anyone else around him.
It was scary though. Scary because I was brutally honest. I was pushing for him to be the same. I wanted him to know exactly how I felt about him and there's a real chance he wouldn't "get it" and just think I was incredibly uncool. That is not a label I'm striving for at all! Not that I'll be cool at any cost but for Sam's sake, I'd like to remain under the "cool" column! I wanted him to know that he could tell me anything about how he felt, what his worries were, and especially his view of what he felt God was doing or not doing in his life. I knew that because I wasn't a family member he might feel more freedom knowing that he wasn't adding any stress to my life by sharing his thoughts.
The ball is totally in his court now and if he doesn't do anything with it, that is perfectly OK. He knows now how much our family loves him and that we will always love him. He is part of us and that won't change. That's the love note I was trying to write. I hope I succeeded.
My love note was appropriate and necessary. Sam's bff is having as rough a time as anyone could. None of it is his doing and none of it, from the world's perspective, is going to end well. Apart from a miraculous intervention from God (and of course He can choose to do that if He wants) it will appear to him that nothing good could possibly come from all the suffering that his family is experiencing. Right now, he doubts everyone and everything. And, he should - from the perspective of a 15 year old young man. But he needs someone who loves him almost as much as his dad does to remind him of unconditional love. And that he's got people committed to him for life regardless of how he feels right now. He needs to understand that no one is watching him with a note pad recording what he says and does and qualifying his behavior in order to report what a good or bad boy he is and whether he's worthy of my love or the love of anyone else around him.
It was scary though. Scary because I was brutally honest. I was pushing for him to be the same. I wanted him to know exactly how I felt about him and there's a real chance he wouldn't "get it" and just think I was incredibly uncool. That is not a label I'm striving for at all! Not that I'll be cool at any cost but for Sam's sake, I'd like to remain under the "cool" column! I wanted him to know that he could tell me anything about how he felt, what his worries were, and especially his view of what he felt God was doing or not doing in his life. I knew that because I wasn't a family member he might feel more freedom knowing that he wasn't adding any stress to my life by sharing his thoughts.
The ball is totally in his court now and if he doesn't do anything with it, that is perfectly OK. He knows now how much our family loves him and that we will always love him. He is part of us and that won't change. That's the love note I was trying to write. I hope I succeeded.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Major Distractions...
I am sitting at the computer and listening to my kids in the other room play the Wii. I usually really enjoy listening to them play together especially since their ages range from 6 - 18. This evening I'm a bit distraught at the conversation and I've already, twice, had to tell them to watch how they speak to each other. Suddenly an idea for a blog entry flew into my head. Generally, I stop whatever I'm doing in order to write it down. Being at the computer, I decided to log in and start typing.
Only one problem... on the way to enter a new blog entry, I totally forgot the premise for my post. UGH!!!! I lose thoughts a lot. Usually it's leaving one room for another to get something and forget what I went into that room for. Meaningless stuff like that. But this was nuts, after all, it took me all of 30 seconds to sign in. I guess I just have too much noise distracting me and too many things on my mind tonight.
This thought leads me back to the movie with Jim Carrey in it called "Bruce Almighty". I'd actually NOT recommend it. I know plenty of dear Christian friends who loved this movie but it just went too far - anything that makes God into OUR image just doesn't sit right with me. However, one scene that may have been totally worth watching the movie for was the scene when Jim Carrey received emails like he was God receiving prayer requests. It was an incredibly overwhelming sight. At first it was funny but it soon became very clear that a human cannot accomplish what God does with ease. I was thankful for that insight at least.
So here I am, forgetting what I thought was a great thought because there was so much to distract me. However, I know for a fact that God is handling, with ease, a friend who's marriage is falling apart, another friend who is begging for wisdom and understanding in her marriage, another friend who is trying to decide what job to take, another friend who is delivering a baby as I write and so many more that I don't have time to list. And I know this for sure: He is not being distracted. He is not losing His train of thought or His focus. And although I may THINK my ideas are good (you'll be the judge of that) His ideas ARE good... no, they are GREAT - every time they are tried!
I love that in spite of my failings, my precious Father always has my back. I love that I never have to wonder if He's thinking about me, or hearing me, or understanding me, or loving me. He's told me that much!
Only one problem... on the way to enter a new blog entry, I totally forgot the premise for my post. UGH!!!! I lose thoughts a lot. Usually it's leaving one room for another to get something and forget what I went into that room for. Meaningless stuff like that. But this was nuts, after all, it took me all of 30 seconds to sign in. I guess I just have too much noise distracting me and too many things on my mind tonight.
This thought leads me back to the movie with Jim Carrey in it called "Bruce Almighty". I'd actually NOT recommend it. I know plenty of dear Christian friends who loved this movie but it just went too far - anything that makes God into OUR image just doesn't sit right with me. However, one scene that may have been totally worth watching the movie for was the scene when Jim Carrey received emails like he was God receiving prayer requests. It was an incredibly overwhelming sight. At first it was funny but it soon became very clear that a human cannot accomplish what God does with ease. I was thankful for that insight at least.
So here I am, forgetting what I thought was a great thought because there was so much to distract me. However, I know for a fact that God is handling, with ease, a friend who's marriage is falling apart, another friend who is begging for wisdom and understanding in her marriage, another friend who is trying to decide what job to take, another friend who is delivering a baby as I write and so many more that I don't have time to list. And I know this for sure: He is not being distracted. He is not losing His train of thought or His focus. And although I may THINK my ideas are good (you'll be the judge of that) His ideas ARE good... no, they are GREAT - every time they are tried!
I love that in spite of my failings, my precious Father always has my back. I love that I never have to wonder if He's thinking about me, or hearing me, or understanding me, or loving me. He's told me that much!
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