A Bit of Blue Yarn

Have you ever heard the question: Why is it old people remember all kinds of stories but they can never remember how many times they've told them?

That's one reason I blog. My family has heard the same stories spilled out of my heart so often they can finish telling them before I do. Whereas here? I could write the same tale every day and no one could do a thing about it. (Well, you could walk away from your computer, but I wouldn't know that, would I?)

So now I have what could be the grandmommy (as opposed to granddaddy) of all sob stories and you get to hear it for (what I think) will be the first time.

When I was very small I had a toy box. It was filled with typical little girl belongings: baby dolls, baby doll paraphernalia, a little iron that actually plugged in and warmed up... I loved the toys inside, but the box was a treasure as well. It was white and big and had a padded lid so you could sit on it without getting an achy bum. Not only that, but Cinderella and her pumpkinny coach decorated the front of the box; I could tell by looking at her face that Prince Charming wasn't too far away.

As you probably know by now, when I was 7 or 8 my parents divorced and sold our home. Mom decided she and I would move to Colorado to be near my oldest brother. She sent me ahead so I could start school out there while she stayed behind to pack up the house.

It was months and months later when we finally found a little place to call home. When we did unpack our belongings I discovered most of my toys and books were gone. I had 2 books and 1 baby doll left to call my own. Okay...I don't remember asking my mom about the toy box or the toys. They just weren't there.

About a year later we went back to Illinois to visit my aunt. While she and my mom were chatting over coffee I explored her home. I walked into the door of her guest room and there, in all her glittery beauty, sat Cinderella, smiling at me from the front of my toy box. Not only that, but all my toys and books were still inside.

I stormed into the kitchen feeling quite hurt and angry. Why are my toys here?! I want them back! They are mine and they are coming back to Colorado with me!

For some strange reason, mom remained silent. It was my aunt who did the talking. She told me mom had given her the toy box and toys so my cousins would have something to play with whenever they came to visit her. Auntie said the toys belonged to her now and I couldn't have them. I looked at her face and knew she meant business. But oh how I wanted my toys. They represented so much more than mere entertainment to me. They were from a time when life was happy and safe and my family was whole. I wanted them back as a reminder of those times.

For the next two days a battle of wills ensued. Aunt Birdie and I went round and round, back and forth and up and down over those toys. I finally realized she had years of experience in being mule headed-I was a novice by comparison. At last I settled on one doll. A light blue yarn doll with a sweet face and yellow suspenders. I spent nearly every waking moment begging, pleading and trying to manipulate my aunt into letting me have her. She had originally been mine after all. This. Was. Not. Fair.

Just as we were loading up the car to head west, my aunt relented. She had a strange gleam in her eye, but she finally gave in. She let me take that doll. I knew in my heart I had won a battle, but she'd won the war. I didn't care. I had a tiny piece of home to carry with me; I still have that doll and I still treasure her.

When I look at her I see so very many things. I see my aunt and her childish desire for victory over a little girl she was supposed to love. I often wonder what hurts hardened her heart and closed it off to compassion and affection...I wish now I could hug her and let her know it's ok to be soft. We aren't wounded every time we're vulnerable.

I see my childhood and all those sweet, happy little girl dreams and memories; that's all they are now-sweet memories. God has taught me that it's only in my friendship with Him that my heart will truly be filled. I don't need things to feel whole.

I see a mom, broken, hurt, filled with despair. I know why she gave away so much. I've been there too.

Finally I see triumph. I duked it out with an adult and won a skirmish. Maybe that's why I'm tenacious to this day? I tasted victory and it was sweet.

roots and wings

This is a picture of our oldest son, taken in the fall of his senior year. Standing next to him is the baby of the family, taken before he even knew what school was.

The quality of this picture leaves much to be desired, but it's still one of my favorite photos. I can't look at it without my heart doing a strange, bittersweet flip flop...

one son looking out, away from the family, so ready to test his wings and fly; the other son just a baby, still so dependent on me, looking around to make sure I was nearby.

I've said it before, but one of my favorite poems about parenting is this:

love them

listen to them

give them deep roots

give them wings

bits of paper

(*I just wanted to warn you, this post was written while under the influence of TWO sleeping pills that have not yet worn off and no sleep despite the fact that the two pills were consumed.)

Other than my teenage son, I am the most random person I know. Actually, now that I think about it, I am a conundrum.

The "things" in my life are very organized-I try to live by the rule, a place for everything and everything in its place.

(I'm going to interrupt myself and tell you it's raining outside. The window is open a tish and there's a soft, gentle rain falling....it sounds so cozy and peaceful, especially since the temperature has dropped. An early fall day-my favorite time of year!)

Anyway-I just proved my point. Random. Back to my stuff. I don't have a junk drawer and except for one map which falls out of the closet every time we take out the vacuum, our closets are quite organized. I even have my scrapbook stuff all sorted by color!

On the other hand, you know how frustrating it is when your life is unorganized? When you need something you know you own but you just can't find it? Is it in that drawer, that box, on that shelf, or in that basket?? You get so frustrated looking for "X" that your blood pressure rises?

Well, it's my brain that's like that. If I weren't convinced God made me this way, on purpose, (I'm sure I was made for comic relief or to teach people patience) I'd be very insecure. Half the time I can't even finish a sentence without interrupting myself to tell a story within the story I was already telling, then I forget where I was and have lost my listener in the process. Where was I?

Oh! I remember now....yes, like you, I write everything down. I jot down ideas for blog posts, library books that are due and when, bible verses I want to remember, questions I'm pondering, passwords I can't afford to forget, things I need to do, goals I have, wishes I long for, ideas for a story I'm writing, directions for finding places, and books I want to buy.

The problem is, each and every one of those things is assigned its own little place in the world. I have bits of paper stuffed into my jewelry box and my sock drawer. I have a whole section of my purse set aside for them and I carry little slivers of paper in my pockets. My bible is stuffed with scraps of paper and my desk cluttered with them. (and no, I'm not exaggerating)

I have 3 notebooks set aside for all this. Three. Are they organized? No. I simply open the nearest notebook to a blank page, write down whatever was in my head, feel relieved that the thought is now on paper so I won't forget it, and walk away. It really is frustrating when I then want to find a specific thought and can't.

I'm not sure what to do about this problem. I've tried to categorize my thoughts, but nope, they won't cooperate. It just can't be done. Is there such a thing as a professional thought organizer?

Are You Bored in the Bedroom?

Ha! That got your attention, didn't it? Wait!! Don't run off. I just couldn't resist being a bit ornery. I've been feeling mischievous for several days now and didn't want to stop here. This post is actually about strengthening your marriage. Bet you didn't think that from the title, did you?

OK. I'll get serious now.

I'm wondering if you've ever crawled into bed and thought about the person lying next to you, wondering, how on earth did I get stuck with him/her? We have nothing in common.

I did that the other night. I started out feeling pretty annoyed and just a bit trapped. Of course, thought I, we do have some things in common. We share the same house, the same children, the same TV and the same neighborhood. But after that? Hmmmm.

He likes fishing... I do too, IF it's not too sunny nor too cloudy, there are no bugs within a hundred miles of the water, it's not too hot nor too cold, not too windy but not too still, and, I actually. catch. fish. He'll sit out there no matter what and bake, freeze, soak and/or swat just for the fun of it.

His music? I was going to say it's for the birds, but I'm sure they hate it just as much as I do.

His food? Meat and grease. No thank you.

He likes strange reptiles for pets...I won't go there...

Anyway, you get the idea. I couldn't think of even 10 things we do have in common.

So, after a few minutes of this I had a brain storm.

"Mike? Let's play a game!"

"What?! Now??"

"Yes. You don't have to move or anything. Let's just take turns listing things we have in common until we can't think of anymore. It won't take but a minute or two, I'm sure."

Silence from the other side of the bed....

Then I hear: "We both love the mountains."

My turn: "Road trips."

"Hiking."

"Pizza."

"Camping." (That one was iffy, but I let him have it. The conditions have to be similar to those of fishing.)

"Going to the symphony."

"Old movies."

"Playing cards."

On and on we went. We listed so many things we actually do have in common we fell asleep before we'd finished. The next day it didn't feel like I was stuck, married to a stranger. It felt like I was stuck, married to my friend.

The Bear

Almost ten years ago this:

lead to this:

which lead to this:

which lead to this:

then this:

then this:

and this:

then this:

what is this?!

and finally this:

See? There's always hope.

Who Cares if He's "Wrong"?

Have you ever stopped and thought, "What if I'm mistaken? What if the convictions I hold to are just plain wrong?" Or, worse yet, you look at someone who's not doing it the way you are and you know they're wrong?

Have you ever taken Christians and really looked at them? There's an umbrella of truth we all stand under:

-Jesus is the Son of God

-We are all sinners

-A price had to paid for those sins

-God loves us and provided a ransome

-Jesus died and conquered death to pay the price

-Believing in Jesus and who He is and what He did and placing your life in His hands is what saves you (gives eternal life)

But, outside that umbrella? There's a dance going on that's so intricate it'll make your head spin. People all over the planet, with the same bible as a guide, have an incredibly varied faith:

-women should only wear dresses

-it's ok for women to wear pants

-you should be in "full time" ministry

-whatever you do you are in "full time" ministry

-birth control is a sin

-birth control is a gift

-we are all called to home-school

-children need to be in the public school system to be salt and light

-you can lose your salvation

-once saved, always saved

-secular music is sinful

-secular music is ok

-you should only read christian books

-it's ok and even good to read a variety of books by a variety of authors

-women should never cut their hair

-God doesn't care what length a woman's hair is

-speaking in tongues proves you've been saved

-speaking in tongues is a thing of the past

-Christians can be possessed by demons

-Christians can't be possessed by demons

-God is sovereign over our every move

-God plopped us here and the rest is up to us

-we need to go to college in order to provide for our families

-God will provide

-it's ok to have fun

-life is hard and we need to take it seriously

The confusing thing is, in most of those cases, you can find a bible verse to back up what you believe. There are some grey areas in the Christian faith.

Churches split over those things. Families divide. Friends part ways because of them.

Why did God do it this way? Why did He make room for so much confusion? So much potential for hurt? We waste so much time and energy focusing on our beliefs and waggling our finger at people who aren't doing it our way.

We really need to put all that on the back burner. We are people, right? We all have baggage. We were all given life and we will all someday die. We are all just bumbling along, taking it one day at a time. I think it's fun, and even good to discuss those things. To banter over them and examine them. But when we forget to love people over them? Then I think we've lost track of our purpose or our reason for being here.

As the Westminster Shorter Catechism says, man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

Ps 86 pretty much sums it up:

Among the gods there is none like you, Lord;

no deeds can compare with yours.
All the nations you have made
will come and worship before you, Lord;
they will bring glory to your name.
For you are great and do marvelous deeds;
you alone are God.

Teach me your way, LORD,
that I may rely on your faithfulness;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name.
I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;
I will glorify your name forever.
For great is your love toward me;
you have delivered me from the depths,
from the realm of the dead.

Having Fun & Cutting Loose

I've never, except in the privacy of our living room, enjoyed dancing. Moving in time with the music just isn't my thing. When we clap our way through a song at church I make a choice: sing or clap; I can't do both at the same time. Either my hands are apart when they should be together or I'm clapping when no one else is. So, you can imagine what my entire body does when it's dancing and it ain't pretty.

Along with my lack of rhythm is my fondness for corners. I love to hide in them and remain unnoticed.

And...in the past I just wasn't sure dancing was something "acceptable" to do. Oh I know the bible says it's ok to dance, and even King David danced before the Lord with all his might; but, that's what I wondered about. Is it ok to dance when you're not dancing to the Lord? When you just want to cut loose and have fun?

Well, a few years ago we attended a wedding and reception I will never forget. I knew most of the people there-they all went to our church. At first I hid in my little corner, not wanting to make a spectacle of myself. But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, a very handsome young man appeared, asking me to dance. Me. How on earth could I turn my son down? I knew in my heart that I would never have that opportunity again. He was an adult with his own life to live, busy, moving on...but for that one moment in time he wanted to dance with his mother.

Needless to say, I practically jumped out of my corner and onto the dance floor. We danced and laughed and I didn't care what people thought. I was going to soak up that moment whether it was "ok" or not.

When that song was over and another began I was once again shocked out of my corner. Another very handsome young man (better known as another son) asked me to dance. Words cannot begin to tell you how I felt when at last all 4 of our sons had asked me to dance and had pulled me out onto the floor, right there in front of all their friends. They weren't embarrassed to be seen dancing with their mom, and they didn't seem to notice my lack of timing. It was just plain fun and they wanted to have fun with me.

The whole evening turned into something magical. I know that's a corny phrase, but for now I can't think of a better word to use. It was an eye opening experience. For a few brief hours I cut loose, had fun, and forgot to be afraid of what others were thinking or whether God was watching and approving or not. I knew He was. For a few brief hours I wasn't narcissistic. I just was.

This will sound corny too, but I wonder if that night was a tiny taste of what our first few hours in heaven will be like? We won't be focused on us anymore. The weight of all that we carry here will be gone. We won't be worried about our bills, our health issues, world events, or the things on our to-do list. We will be focused on Him and freedom, being thankful, having fun and cutting loose.