So I Was Afraid

In Matthew 25, we hear Jesus tell a story.

A rich man is heading out on a long journey and he puts three of his servants in charge of his assets. To one he gives five "talents" (money); to another, two; and to another, one.  And off he goes.  When he returns some time later, he finds that the first two men have invested, and doubled, the assets left with them.  

The master responds to them both with, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

It's the third man bringing me here today.

He is afraid. 

Now remember -- the master trusted him - so he's clearly no dope.  The master saw potential. He saw what could be.  What did the man see?

He saw his potential for failure.  He saw his weakness.  He saw the perfection of his boss.

He was afraid.

He buried the money in a hole and did nothing.

I SO don't want to be that guy.

I see my potential for failure - and it's huge.  I see my weakness - it is great.  I see the enormity of the task.  I see the awesomeness, the perfection of my God.

I'm uncomfortable.

I'm afraid.

And I want to hide.   I want to procrastinate.  I want to continue to come up with reasons (read "excuses") for why I should just hide in a hole - at least I won't make anything worse there, right?

Wrong.

 

There is much that needs to be done - much He has entrusted to us - to me.  We are the agents He has chosen to use to bind up the broken, to heal, to rescue, to love this world and show them the love of a perfect, awesome Father.  And it will. get. worse. if we - if I, choose to hide in a hole and do nothing.

God is opening some doors just a crack to let me see some options - and y'all - I'm terrified at what lies behind every. one. of. them.

But I don't want to be that guy.

I don't want to be the guy, that at the end looks back at what could have been. 

I don't want to look back and just see a pile of dirt and an unused life.

Beginning Tonight

Beginning tonight,

my house will become messy again after I clean it,
I'll have to cook more,
the laundry will pile up faster,
my reading will consistently  be interrupted, to talk,
I will have to go to social events against my will,
I'll have to talk in the mornings...

I can. not. wait.

I have missed my man.

I have known he makes me a better person, but I realize afresh all the different ways that is true.

I'm ready for an evening around the firepit with friends - that includes my best friend.

Hurry home, Brian!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow.

This'll be short and to the point.

Brian and Dylan leave tomorrow for India with Steve Hollingsworth, of 4Him ministries.  Brian and Steve will be gone for 2 1/2 weeks.  Dylan for some extended time after that (not sure of his return date yet).

If you haven't been following this, they will be serving alongside an Indian pastor in Chennai that trains young pastors and then supports their work (teaching, encouraging, and helping them to be come self-sustaining) as they go back to their home villages, all over India - starting schools and, often, churches. Much of his work is with the Dalite people groups. They will be working with pastors, students, children and whoever else God brings in their path.

My heart is incredibly full today.  I'm SO proud of these two men in my life.  They are both reaching way outside of their comfort zones - doing what love does - what faith does.  Which is just that -- it DOES.

Please pray.

Pray they will be empty vessels, that God can pour Himself through.
Pray they will risk, and love, and give. Everyday.
Pray they will be a blessing and be blessed.
Pray they will both see and be light in the midst of great darkness.
Pray they will bring life lessons back to share with the Bodies they worship and serve with.
Pray they will be changed forever.
Pray for wisdom as they teach, learn from and invest in the lives of pastors, students, children.
Pray for their health - specifically 1. that the introduction of so many new germs, foods, etc. will not make them sick;  2. Dylan's depression - that it would be well managed and he would have clear thought and peace.
Pray they will be able to rest when it's time to rest - no matter the environment - and feel refreshed when it's time to work again.

I'm so excited for them.

I'm so freaked out.

But I am at peace.

Can't wait to see what God has in store.

Love Does

The Things That Last

Okay, so a couple of weeks ago, this empty nest thing got the better of me.  Or perhaps it was the fact that I turned 50 that same week.  Either way, I went a little nuts.  

I decided it was time to "de-school" the house.  If you homeschool, please listen to the following piece of advise:  DO NOT wait until all your kids are grown and gone to get rid of all the old school stuff.  It's a REALLY bad idea.  Try to take care of it as you go.

I can give that advise because I did the exact opposite.  I'm pretty sure I hadn't thrown away a single scrap of paper in the 18 years that I spent educating our three kids.  Every math paper, every penmanship paper, every grammar worksheet, every creative writing project, every book, every shred of curriculum, everything.  Everything.  Did I mention everything?

It is not a good idea for a pre-menopausal, recently empty-nested, just turned fifty-year-old woman to be going through the papers that her children's sweet little cherub hands created at five, seven, ten...

These would be the books, curriculum, etc. that were good, but no particular attachment was made and they'll be helpful to some other mom someday, so I'm getting rid of them.  Any takers?

More of the same...

Again, any takers?

Boxes and boxes of books that Brian and I have read, enjoyed and decided (perhaps somewhat reluctantly on his part - but he was a little afraid of me at the time, I think, so he complied) to share with others.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And here's where I learned a little something.  Eighteen years of homeschooling...our blood, sweat and tears.  The blood, sweat and tears of our children... it came down this...

This picture is the blood, sweat and tears part.  The "work".  The part the kids fought me over, that I worried and stressed about, that made me feel like an unfit mother/teacher.  Penmanship, science, history, math, creative writing, blah, blah, blah.  Now?  Now the papers will go up in flames somewhere where I can't watch.  I was reminded often as I sifted through it of this verse in 1 Corinthians 3 :

"For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.  If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw,  their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work."

So what's gonna last?

These are the books I was absolutely unable to part with.  Books that one child or another particularly enjoyed reading, that we all loved reading together, that we laughed through, cried through, had some emotional attachment to...

  

And one day these will burn too, but they'll stay for now because they represent what will not burn.  The love of our family, the love of learning, the joy of discovery, the excitement of "seeing" the lives that have gone before us, getting to know our God better - together.  Those things will last.

I'm thankful that when Erin was in third grade, I put all the "curriculum" away in a box and spent two months getting to know her a little better, investigating how she learned, playing games and adapted "school" to our home instead of forcing someone else's ideas of the best way to learn on to her.  I tried to do that with all three kids. I made plenty of mistakes, forced some stupid curriculum options on them at times, stressed about things I shouldn't have stressed over...  But we'll survive the mistakes, I guess.  We always seem to. :)

What's not gonna burn?  

The relationships;  a life time of memories that we share; the fact that they each, in their own way, love to learn (different things, in different ways, but always growing); character and integrity; a desire in each of them to serve "the least of these".

All of us - those who homeschool and those who send their kids to school, those who teach their own kids at home and those who teach other people's kids, those with no kids at all, but who have a place of influence in another's life - can work on those things.

I've spent a lifetime investing in the education and growth of my children.  I would not trade one second of that time for more money, or things, or fame.  Nothing is more important to me than what we all learned during that time, the relationships built, the time well spent.  I'm so glad I was able to teach them readin', writin', and 'rithmatic - but I'm much more glad that I was able to invest in who they are - in their hearts - in their character - in the "gold, silver and costly stones".

So here's my goal as a pre-menopausal, recently empty-nested, just turned fifty-year-old woman - to find the things that will last and invest in those things in this new chapter of my life.  I'm excited to see where it takes me.

What are you investing in that will last?

And really - I'm searching - I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Lessons at the Airport

I spent some time at the airport yesterday.  I am a people-watcher.  This is a good pairing. 

There are so many stories being told at the airport.

I saw a large group of people leaving the airport.  One, a man in military camo, carrying a sign that said, "Welcome Home Daddy!"  while several toddlers, his wife, friends, and siblings welcomed him home with complete, unashamed, joy.  What stories they must have to tell.  Fear, trust, bravery, separation, reconciliation - on all sides.  

I stood for a good while watching the corridor where those arriving and those meeting the arrivals first meet.  An older woman arrived, nearly running down the corridor to embrace her husband.  They looked like newlyweds in their hellos.  It was beautiful.  I love that they still love like that.

I watched a woman standing in line at the security check, slowly wiping tears from her eyes.  I could not see any indication as to why, but I could see her pain.  Something common to us all.  

I watched an older husband and wife, backs to me, stand and watch a woman, who I assume was their daughter, the whole time after they were forced to say their good byes.  They watched her move through the security line, the checks, and at the last point they could see her before she moved out of sight, the daughter (who looked to be about my age) waved goodbye with enthusiasm, clearly excited about where she was headed.  Mom and Dad finally turned around after she was out of sight and headed toward the escalators.  Mom was crying.  Dad was holding her.  My thought?  It never changes.  This blessing and curse of being a parent.  We will be forever proud of their independence, their accomplishments, their adventures, but moms will never stop worrying and missing.  Dads will never stop holding us up as we walk away, trusting God to hold them when we cannot.

We have so much in common.  Our joys.  Our heartaches.  Our celebrations. I wish we could remember that - and speak a little more tenderly, celebrate wildly with those that have reason to celebrate, mourn with those who have reason to mourn, look for ways to ease the pain of others, love more.

We have so much in common.

Times They Are A Changin'

So here's the thing...

For 23 years - twenty. three. years. - nearly every decision I have made has in some way required that I consider my children.  

When do they need to eat?

sleep?

be dropped off somewhere?

Does the decision conflict with something I'm already doing for them?

Is there a sitter available?, or 

Will they be home alone too long?

Will this help/hinder their education?

Is this a safe/wise/positive activity for them?

This doesn't even begin to touch all the decisions I've made based on their emotional and spiritual needs.

I don't know how to make a decision that doesn't require me to think about my kids.

****************************

And now?

What are we doing tomorrow?  Whatever we want - it doesn't matter.

What is for dinner?  Whatever we want - it doesn't matter.

What movie, tv show, leisure activity?  Whatever we want - it doesn't matter.

Who do we want to invite over?  Whoever we want - it doesn't matter.

One would think this would make me happy.  It does not.

And I know it's not really even true - we have many responsibilities and we don't get to dictate our own schedules simply because there are no kids at home - but, in my currently psychotic mind, it feels like it doesn't matter with them gone.  And here's what I think it boils down to for me...

I don't know how to not be needed.

Most of us get up, move and breathe, each day based on who we believe we are.  For 23 years, without a hesitation or blink of an eye, the answer has been, "I'm a mother."

I watched a sweet, young mother at the restaurant we all went to after church.  Her baby was screaming his precious little head off as she patiently tried to get his food for him.  I couldn't see her face at the time, but I remembered...

I remember vividly how hard that was.  You're exhausted from the morning of getting little ones ready for church, messing up schedules, rushing breakfast.  You go to church - they miss their naps and then you go out to eat.  Most of the time, it's just work to get through lunch with hungry, tired babies.

I watched my young mother friend and had to fight off the urge to just start crying. (And not for her, or not for the same reason as she may have wanted to cry.)

I missed it - being needed.

I know.  I'm sick.

And yes, I know, I'm still a mother.  But that is not the sole reason for my existence anymore.  I don't know what to do with that.  I'm sure there is some sick, co-dependent part of me that needed someone to need me - all the time.  But, apparently, we've done our job at least passably well, and they seem to be able to function as adults without me orchestrating every event.

It is as it should be.  We've worked ourselves out of a job.

So now what?  

**************************

So it begins -- a new day and the journey to figuring out who I am after my kids don't need me to take care of them every day, day in and day out.  

What is my purpose now?  

All sarcasm aside, God has placed some deep passions in my heart over the last few years and I really am excited to see what it is that He has planned in those areas. I'm ready to move on to this next "career" and looking with expectancy for what it's going to bring.

But, just be prepared - I'm not a big fan of change and this is hard.  So if you see me sitting in a corner, watching you with your little ones and I'm falling apart... just walk on by.  I'll get over it soon, I'm sure.  (At least that's what my mother tells me. :) )

Y'all pray that my sweet, patient husband still loves me at the end of this adjustment period. :)

*******************************

And if you're reading this and you've survived this transition, feel free to post some benefits that I can look forward to when I stop being a basket case. Thanks!

And Then There Were Two

"And the two became one."

When we first married, we were so doe-eyed and twitterpated.  He was my best friend, the one I laughed with, loved with, played with...we talked, confided - we did most everything together.  We gave each other space to be different, but we enjoyed being together.  We were a family of two and it was good - it was very good.

Enter the baby.  Our family is now three.  This so rocked my world.  I never dreamed that anyone could have such a pull on my heart - such an ability to change everything that I thought I knew - to be SO tiny and helpless, yet make me feel so completely inadequate for the task before us.

I finally figure out how to care for this little one without fear of being discovered a complete fraud as a competent parent --

And then we are four...

I vividly remember FINALLY getting the baby to take a nap, so I could get some desperately needed sleep, and as I walk out of the nursery, I turn and see -- a two year old.  Bright-eyed and ready to have alone time with mom.  It was overwhelming to be so desperately needed and feel like you are never enough.  

But we rock along, we figure it out, we find a schedule that allows me to sleep on occasion and not become too much of a raving lunatic.  

And then we are five.  

I remember, at the time, thinking that I would never rest again.  I would never have time to be alone, to not feel pulled in way too many directions,  that there are WAY more questions than there are answers. 

And that best friend I had just a few years back?  It's really difficult to maintain that during those years.  I thought, "Brian can take care of himself," - he was a grown man, easy to put on the back burner while I focused on those helpless ones in our care.

Have you seen Marley & Me?  Maybe the saddest movie of all time, but what I remember most from that movie is all the tension in the years that they were constantly caring for tinies.  It was so real!  Do you remember that season?  Are you still living there?  

Those tinies have SO many needs and we are so stretched and we see things so differently from our spouse at times.  It is a beautiful, chaotic, messy, blessed life.  We are tired, and cranky, and they can be so insensitive!  From mom's perspective, dad can be so incredibly incompetent about the simplest things in caring for these little creatures (I know now that this isn't fair, but it's what our hormonal minds see - sorry.)

Thankfully - I am eternally, forever, thankful - there were people that were further along in this journey than we were that spoke into our lives.  Women that told me to remember that when these kids were grown and gone, my husband would still be there.  The priority HAD to be to maintain that relationship, that friendship.

(As a side note, because it really deserves much more attention than I can give it here - I recognize that some of you, for one of perhaps hundreds of possible reasons, are living in this stage alone.  Remember that while there may be no more important job, you are more than a mother or a father.  You are a brother/sister, son/daughter, friend, professional.  Nurture those relationships.  Remember who you are - because they will grow up and you need to know that - your kids need to know that.)

I could not imagine a time when there would not be kids in our home.  I could not imagine a time when we would have hours and hours to spend just talking, make our own schedules, cook what we wanted, sleep when we wanted.  But I chose, in spite of great doubt at times,  to trust these women.  

I learned to swallow the desire to choke him when he didn't change a diaper the way I thought he should, when he let them eat things for dinner that I wouldn't, when he left them alone before I thought they were ready (he was only gone for 20 minutes, our daughter WAS old enough, and I was an over-protective lunatic, but I couldn't see that at the time.)  And you know what?  None of those things mattered.  Our kids were not ruined by a Mom and a Dad that did things in a little different way.  And some of the things he did that I wanted to choke him for?  They were the right things, and I was the one that learned.  Imagine that.

We worked on our friendship.  We carved out time when there was none, to talk, to go on dates (sometimes short, sometimes just in the living room with a bowl of popcorn after we finally rendered the tinies unconscious, but a date none-the-less).  When it would have been easier to grow further apart, allowing our only commonality to become the children we are loving and raising, we forgave and we loved and we communicated.

I am so glad we did.  Because then those tinies become teenagers - and we learned what hard really meant.  We learned that there really were more questions than there are answers.  But we continued to work on US.  We went in our bedroom, closed the door, and laughed - sometimes cried, prayed, searched for answers - together. 

We haven't always agreed.  I know there were times that he had to swallow the desire to choke me as well.  But we continued to remember what those ahead of us told us - this season would pass - they would not always be here.  We needed to throw ourselves fully into, and enjoy, the blessing of the five of us right now, but we needed to still know each other when all this changed.

Then it began.  There were four in this house.

Then there were three.

And then there were two...

This is where we are.  The season has arrived.  

I have no idea what this is going to look like.  

I know there will still be difficulties.  I know there will still be times that we have to swallow the desire to choke each other.  We will face new challenges, new adventures.  We will figure out who we are as parents of adult children.  I know we will still worry about our kids, they will still need our help, they may even be back in our home for a season and we will still feel completely inadequate to the tasks at hand.

We've come full circle - a family of two, but we are still one.  We are friends.  We love, we laugh, we cry - we do those things together.  I am so glad we never stopped trying.

If you are still in the midst of the overwhelming chaos - if you can't imagine a time different than this one...  Do not lose sight of the end of the journey.  It will come - in the blink of an eye.  Work at it.  Take time to love each other.  Take time to laugh. Do. Not. Choke. Him.  It will be worth it.

And then there were two.