Writing

Writing is funny. I love doing it. I love putting down in words all the stuff that is taking up space in my head. It frees up room for other things, and on a really good day it’s something someone else can relate to and find comfort in. A connection to their own humanity.

The part I find incredibly odd is not always recognizing my writing months later. I’ll be flipping through emails and see from WordPress that there is a new blog from someone. I’ll open it, start reading it and then realize it is mine. “Oh, yeah, I guess I remember writing that.”

But mostly I get the words out, and I move on. Like markers on a path, I put these words down, marking where I’ve been and then I keep going. It’s only when I follow the markers back that I am reminded the author putting them down was me. It’s very strange. And somehow very delightful.

Like wrapping presents and hiding them for yourself all over the house, only to be surprised by them in the future. It’s not that I feel like what I’m writing is fabulous, but it’s a little reminder to myself of who I am, who I was, where I’ve been.

Maybe you should give it a try.

Marriage

This marriage thing- it’s hard. It’s a lot of work. And some days you don’t want to do it. You’d rather sit in your pit of resentment or anger or self righteousness.

And then, if you’re lucky, he’ll do something that cracks you both up. The belly laugh kind of cracking up. Eyes watering, afraid you might wet your pants kind of laughter.

Somehow the pit you were so hell bent on sitting in has grown less deep. It’s filled in a little. You can more easily remember the reasons you said “I do.” You revel in the lines that laughter have created on his face. And you want to make sure you’re around for the next hundred times he does something funny. So much so that you recommit to doing the hard work of marriage again today.

One day at a time.

Veggie Tales and a Thankful Heart

Some of the greatest things I know I learned from a cartoon cucumber.

This morning, as I was taking the dog out to take care of her business, well before my alarm went off for me to start my day, I was reminded of this wisdom- “a thankful heart is a happy heart. I’m glad for what I have. That’s an easy way to start.” Thank you Larry the Cucumber and your produce friends!

It would have been easy to be grumpy. I was denied precious sleep. I was awakened on someone else’s terms. But in my head, more importantly, in my heart, I could hear the chorus over and over. And it set the tone for my day. The once too early morning was now painted with the softness of the sunrise. The beauty of the world shone.

I didn’t grow up in church, so I was a little later to the Jesus party. I didn’t grow up knowing the stories of the Bible. I couldn’t tell you the stories the beautiful stained glass windows in my husband’s childhood church depict. I can’t sing classic gospel hymns that many know. I just don’t have that background.

The benefit of all those things is that when I was learning about the Bible, it was alongside my children. Which means I got to have an adult understanding of the world and an adult appreciation for my brokenness, while absorbing the Word in terms that were easy to understand and with a childlike curiosity. In lyrics from children’s songs and picture filled bible stories, I built my faith.

I believe this made it easier for the messages to stick. I saw my need. My heart was hungry for it. My soul was thirsty for the fountain of life.

I have written those words on my heart. And my life is so much better for it. I have so many things for which to be thankful. The big things, the obvious ones- family, health, a home, etc. But thanks to a cartoon cucumber I’ve learned to be thankful for tiny things- the taste of pie, q-tips to get the water out of my ears, feet that carry me, the way a pen feels in my hand. And because of that, my heart is happy. So happy.

So the next time the dog wakes you before you’re ready, give it a try. Look for things to be thankful for. Maybe you’ll feel your heart get a bit happier.

On Parenting

Parenting is hard. We want to give them the wisdom we’ve gained in our 40+ years of living. We want to save them the heartache. We want to transfer to them all of the tools we’ve picked up over the years. We want to show them how to spot all the red flags.

But, we can’t. Because the toolbox of youth is still too small to hold all the tools we’ve collected. We can’t give them all of the wisdom because their brains and hearts aren’t quite expanded enough to accept it all. So we lay it out before them, like a smorgasbord, hoping they can find something worthwhile.

And we watch. We watch the train wrecks. We watch the beautiful displays of growth, the performances of a lifetime. We witness the hurdles that they trip over and sometimes see them pull the hurdle down on themselves without even trying to jump.

We pack our band-aids and pep talks and tough love. And we walk alongside them. Ready to wrap our arms around them – whether in a comforting hug or to nearly shake the life out of them.

Ultimately we pick up other tools in the process, gain more wisdom. Eventually, when we are old and they are raising children of their own, maybe then we can pass it on. By then they will have upgraded to a larger toolbox and through the breaking of their hearts (both in joy and in pain), they will have grown in size- ready to accept our gift.

That is if Old Age hasn’t taken over and made us forget what we once knew. 🙄

Them

I am not a villain. I am not crazy. I am not a rapist or a murderer or a thief. I am not out to hurt you or to jeopardize the strength of our nation. I am not weak.

My skin may not look like yours. My culture may be different. I may not have the same religion. My gender may not match yours. We may vote differently.

But I am not your enemy.

I am a human. A mother who loves her children. A father fighting to provide for his family. A patient praying for a cure. A friend trying to show support for someone we both know.

But if you believe the lies you are told, you will never know that. You will look at me and cast me into the “them” category that you’ve been encouraged to hate. You will accept, without ever taking the time to find out, that there is nothing within me worth knowing.

My great hope is that we will learn to look at one another with eyes of compassion. That I will see you with love and recognize your strengths. That you will see me and see past my differences to value my heart. Because that is the only way any of this gets better. And isn’t better what we all want?

Known

There is a new song out.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=x6T28lsTPwc

An amazing song called Known by Tauren Wells that reminds me of God’s love for me. It speaks of a love that blows my mind.

To think that there is one that fully knows me- my thoughts, my faults, my flaws, the inward most parts of my heart, all of it, and still fully loves me. I fall short a hundred different ways each and every day. And yet, the perfect God of the universe pursues me. He wants me. He treasures me.

I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to pretend. He calls me out of hiding so that He can pull me in. He wants to be with me. It’s not a common thing in this world to experience that kind of love. It’s something most humans can’t even wrap their minds around, much less live out.

In what other relationship can I (can you) get all the do-overs I need- even when I don’t deserve them? Who else loves me, seeks me out, and comes after me even when I am wrong? I can’t think of another.

So I celebrate. I rejoice. I dance and I sing and I lift my hands in praise. That perfect love, it’s an amazing gift that I don’t deserve, and yet I am given it each and every day. It just blows me away.

I am fully known.