Passage of time

Another year, another candle to blow out.  As is always the case around my birthday I start thinking about time.  This week I took the kids with me to sing happy birthday to a friend turning 71.  She was never married, has no children, though she still has many siblings left.  She started with 11, down a few now.  We got to talking about farms and tractors.  She remembers a time when horses were used to work the fields.  Change. 

This summer has been filled with many changes.  Most frustrating would be having our favorite restaurant changing owners.  It was a place that Andy and I started going to years ago, to celebrate our marriage.  Many memories in our almost yearly visits.  I remember going there when I was days away from giving birth to our first-born.  Special place.  Only once did we take the kids there, to celebrate Andy's parents anniversary.  Not fancy, yet special because of the many extra touches.  You could get a bottle of birch beer, read the menu off a chalkboard, wonder if the chairs at the next table over in the checkered pattern were more comfortable than yours, then proceed to tug on the flowers to check their authenticity.  Picked from a garden they were!  Change will be taking place with the new owners, I'm sure of it.

"CHANGE IS THE ONLY CONSTANT"

Just a few days ago I discovered another familiar comfort gone.  A favored entree taken off a menu.  Then I went in to pick up some broccoli salad at the neighborhood grocery store.  That too was gone, not being made anymore.  When my brother was visiting he commented on his changing skin.  What next?  I am still getting used to my digital camera.  The passage of time will ultimately affect change.  Not sure if it's good or bad, perhaps only decided by our perception of it.  With digital I can now take more, more, and more pictures.  I don't have to dread reaching the number 36 and realizing that I am out of film.  Now it's the batteries that I worry about... 

Recently I heard my sister-in-law joke about how before she was married she spent more time with her husband to be than after they got married!  Change.  There are a few benefits of passing time.  Diapers are no longer a part of my daily routine, nor trying to keep tiny hands away from every potential harm.  I never imagined how I could love my children as much past the "cute" toddler stage.  I'm finding that my love for them is growing even more as time lengthens their limbs. 

 

Ecclesiastes 11:5

JUST AS YOU DO NOT KNOW THE PATH OF THE WIND AND HOW BONES ARE FORMED IN A PREGNANT WOMAN, SO YOU DO NOT KNOW THE ACTIVITY OF GOD WHO MAKES ALL THINGS.

Time also has a healing factor to it.  The pain doesn't sear as deep anymore when my memories of Jeff come up for air.  I knew my life would change dramatically because of that accident.  Almost 2 years have passed since that day.  The day that I almost let bitterness take over my life.  I knew at that moment that my husband would have to do more than his part to help keep the farm running.  Time, giving me a different perspective.  Time, allowing me to see the strength of my husband's character.  Time, slowing eroding away all traces of bitterness.

I'm not sure if I will be able to go to a space that held many a memory of times gone by with the walls painted a different color, chairs that match and a menu that doesn't carry anything that resembles the last sandwich that I ordered (which was ham, turkey and cheese with bacon and apple slices that came with a caramel dipping sauce).  Perhaps, just perhaps if I let myself, I may discover it to be just as special a place.  Perhaps I will also learn something about myself in the process.  A way to grow, to adapt- to not hold on so tightly to that which is no more.  Maybe I'll even better learn how to embrace all that the passage of time has to offer.  That which makes my heart laugh along with that which causes my arms to tremble.

Moments

Pictures.  I take so many.  I'm not really sure why.  The ones taken with 35mm film sit silently in boxes, rarely opened to see daylight.  The digital forms that I have are waiting patiently on memory cards to be rediscovered, placed on our computer for viewing pleasure.  A couple of times I have gone through the process to get tangible prints, not often though.  That's alright.  It's not really the end result that I so crave.  It's the actual moment itself.  I once read somewhere that to create a lasting imprint in your mind of a moment you need to focus on that moment for a specified matter of seconds.  I must not have focused too long on what I was reading because I forget how many seconds were needed for the moment to become lasting in your mind...  Hummm.  I love the above moment captured on camera.  We had just picked up Caleb from his week at camp and Riah was showing him the new space in her mouth.  I remember being so incredibly full of joy to all be together again.  So thankful for taking the time to imprint it in my mind.  It brings back how misty eyed my 10 year old son was when I held him under my arm after being out of touch for 5 days.       

Once I thought my camera was lost along with pictures that I would never have a chance to relive.  For the days that I thought it was lost I retraced in my mind all the pictures that I had taken recently.  I jotted them all down.  After finding what I thought was lost I quickly viewed all of the pictures.  Amazingly all of them were what I thought they would be.  I hadn't missed a one.  It was then that I realized that my memories were made and stored only by the time that I had taken to treasure them.  I learned this lesson well by watching my father.  He has spent his lifetime behind many a lens.  He is fascinated by the wonders of this world and has chosen to capture it through a viewfinder.  He may be the last one to exit a trail in the woods and you may even think yet once again you have lost him for good in a crowd- but it's OK.  His family that knows and loves him wouldn't have it any other way.  He continues to delight himself in the here and now so that we can all share in his memories.  And perhaps if we are lucky we too can catch a glimpse of his awe for the wonders of God's creative genius.  

I may leave my house without my lip gloss or even my wallet, but you will never find me without my camera.  I need all the help I can get to remind me to slow down, to savor time, to create a memory.  Life is so very fleeting.  But then again, I didn't need to remind you of that.  

I am choosing to get both feet wet

 

by jumping in and FEELING every moment 

and seeing how they shape me

and where they may take me.

Lyrics from a song that Michael Card wrote for his children that echoes my heartbeat:

Reject the worldly lie that says,

That life lies always up ahead,

Let power go before control becomes a crust around your soul,

Escape the hunger to possess,

And soul-diminishing success,

This world is full of narrow lives,

I pray by grace your smile survives.

For I would wander weary miles,

Would welcome ridicule my child,

To simply see the the sunrise of your smile,

To see the light behind your eyes,

The happy thought that makes you fly,

Yes, I would wander weary miles,

To simply see the sunrise of your smile.

Now close your eyes so you can see,

Your own unfinished memories,

Now open them, for time is brief,

Andy you'll be blest beyond belief,

Now glance above you at the sky,

There's beauty there to blind the eye,

I ask all this then wait awhile,

To see the dawning of your smile...

Thankful my Father chooses to love

Currently in an angry phase.  Not sure what started it.  It may have been my nearly new sandals not selling on Ebay, again.  All I know is the anger came and has yet to leave.  A few weeks ago we decided to attend a soccer game.  A young friend we know from church was playing.  On the way to the game we were going to stop by the store to freshen up my jewelry display.  This turned into the first of a string of yelling days.  I didn't realize until getting into the car that Andy needed to buy staples to finish off a display item and according to my time frame this would make us late.  If you know me at all, I do not enjoy being late.  Even thinking about the possibility that we would be late was enough to boil me.  I was running on toxic anger fumes.  I kept inhaling and decided I didn't want to replace the filter.  I chose to remain in my state of anger.  

We got to the store with the staples.  Almost to a parking spot but not before a man with a really long cart decided to cross our path.  This man had lumber sticking out haphazardly with little plants precariously perched on top of his really, really long cart.  He didn't know that it would have been best for him to have remained home that day, according to my anger meter.  Andy, being the gentlemen he is waved him on to cross in front of our vehicle.  I was thinking that the man would quickly wheel on out to his car never to be seen again.  Wrong.  We spotted an open spot two rows over.  This happened to put us in route to following this man and his cart.  At a snails pace we trailed behind him hoping to reach the spot before someone else did.  Just about there and the cart stopped right in front of us.  For some reason the man decided to leave it 2 parking places down from his vehicle in front of the only open spot for as far as the eye could see.  He then proceeded to open up his trunk.  Waiting we were, fake smile plastered on my face as I gave him the courtesy "take your time- it really is OK- I understand you have a lot going on at the moment- really don't need to get into the store at all today" look.  Not sure if it was my anger that fueled us but we did end up eventually getting to the game on time.

Today there is anger as I am yelling at the kids to find my bathing suit top.  It's not a bikini top mind you.  I'm hoping I cleared that up before your mind decided to entertain you with the vision of me in a little string thing.  This is the full coverage deal.  Seeing as the house is still pretty trashed, bins of clothing toppled out everywhere- the odds are pretty good that the top got tipped out of it's storage place at some point and time.  I have the girls to thank for that.  Earlier today Lily came down with a skirt on that she wore when she was a baby.  Andy feeling vindicated as he says "see, I told you that was too big at the time".  The girls like to dress themselves up along with dressing up anything that's stuffed or has movable parts.  Angry again I did get when I realized that I was to blame.  They destroy.  I get weary of helping them pick up the pieces.  So thankful that my heavenly Father does not grow weary of me.  Swimming I may not be tomorrow as the top has so far not surfaced.  Practicing a spirit of gentleness towards my children who share in my imperfections, I will be.  At least that is my goal...

Beauty in the everyday

I gave it up.  Spent months following a plan.  Never allowing it to be fully realized, the potential it could have held for me.  Feeling sorry for myself, wanting desperately to be able to rely on processed foods, the ease of picking something up to eat.  Hungry all the time, fearing I would start to resemble a nut.  I don't know when it happened.  Slowly, other foods crept in.  I gave myself permission to "just this time" eat something forbidden.  Here I am again.  Back to a place I didn't want to find myself.  Eating to my hearts content.  No self control.  Filling up til I'm beyond full.  I like feeling full.  Even though it makes me sick.  Back to thinking that it's just too hard to live otherwise.  And then my thoughts are drawn to a friend who laid his 46 year old son to rest last week.  

For 46 years my friend and his wife cared for a child that couldn't care for himself.  Year after year he was asked when they would be putting their son into a home.  List after list they placed their needy child on.  Time after time this child's name would rise to the top.  The answer given was always the same, the parents would say "not now".  Looking in from the outside it seemed an insurmountable burden to bear.  Caregivers needed round the clock for this child turned grown man.  

My friend now weeps daily for the loss of the presence of his child.  His one child that never left home.   I thought it would be a burden he would be able to give up willingly when the time came.  Freedom to not have to make plans around caregivers schedules.  Yet my friend so misses his son who could light up a room with his smile, though he comprehended little he gave much life to those around him.  My friend valued his son.  My friend rose each morning and did what he had to do because he understood the value of one life.  He woke up and did what he had to do in order to keep that one life living to his fullest potential. 

When I put my life in perspective my daily struggles seem so minor.  The inconveniences so small that challenge me.  I often think what if I didn't have a choice as to how I lived?  I don't have to rely on others for my everyday care.  I have limbs that work.  I am not confined by a wheelchair.  I can choose when to eat, what to eat.  Foods that will give me life or contribute to my mediocre state.  I need to give up my idealistic thinking that I will eventually get to a place where living is easy, pain-free, where it doesn't take work to exist.  I am blessed.  I am blessed when I wake up in the morning and I can lift my legs out of bed.  I am blessed when I am able to put a spoon to my mouth and chew.  I am blessed.  My friend was beyond blessed for seeing beauty in the everyday mundane tasks.  

We come with beautiful secrets

We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls

We come to every new morning

With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces

Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations

It brings redemption to life and work

To our lives and our work

It comes in loving community

It comes in helping a soul find it's worth...

~Add to the Beauty by Sara Groves

   

$40,000 should cover it

Anyone, anyone, $40,000 to spare

The house across town is up for sale.

Covet, Lord, I can't pretend not to

though I'd have to give up my dream of a basement-

at least the kind that has no spiders

dropping their spun webs down from the beams surrounding your head
threatening to choke you as you power along your treadmill walk... 

There is a dining room with space big enough

to feed those who just might wander in,

stairs that lead to rooms where you can stand up tall,

gathering spots that give you room to breathe-

did I mention the kitchen?  

It's open and airy

and I'm certain something that resembles a dishwasher 

(that isn't named Andy, Caleb, Lily or Moriah).

With each passing day as the kids grow a head taller

I have to reign in my frustrations of how smaller

our house appears with each minute and hour.

The master bedroom that can't be off limits 

as it leads to the attic which houses our son

along with boxes of stuff I can't seem to part with.

7 years ago this house seemed so perfect,

now awaiting a miracle to beam me up out of here!

Venting, yes I am venting before I implode, 

before the memories assault me and my willpower gives out

and stuck here forever we will be,

in our tiny little house

filled to the brim with love-

though peering inside you will see a wife, who is also a mother

brewing over what might have been

with your simple investment of $40,000. 

Learning to breathe amidst the clutter

Sitting here paralyzed by a video I took last night.  Lily's dress rehearsal for her dance recital.  I can't stop rewinding.  I wasn't thinking and I ended up sitting on the wrong side to get the ending pose.  I can barely see the back of her head through the smiling happy faces of the other 3 ballerinas.  My heart aches to not have been able to share the vision of that moment.  Seeing that final expression on her face after months of practicing, living her dream.  I am currently contemplating breaking the rules by taping the ending during the real performance, from the other side!  Stuff like this sits like mold in my brain.  Causing the plumbing to back up.  Certain days I play over and over in my mind.  One incident that happened months ago still haunts me when I least expect it.  I chose to ignore a plea for help.  The plea was from someone that I was feeling wasn't worthy of my time, my help, my sacrifice.  I was dressed up, feeling pretty.  I didn't want to do anything that I thought would "dirty" me in any way.  How hypocritical of me.  To not help a fellow human being because I didn't want to get my hands dirty.  My home is currently in a state of utter chaos, dirty upon dirty.  I was asked for help and did nothing.  Instead I chose to watch from my high and mighty perch to see how it all played out.  That situation caused the person asking for help to feel shut out, unwanted by an entire community.  It caused my heart to feel more stained than I ever thought possible.  When did I become so cruel?  When did I stop caring?  When did I start believing that I am more valuable than someone else?  Is there forgiveness that can span the amount of dirt that I have shoveled upon my heart?   

I have recently begun reading a blog that sets my jealously all a flutter.  The words this particular blogger uses are like brushstrokes on a canvas.  Word pictures for the soul.  When you don't think that light could penetrate any further inside- it does.  It finds the parts that are dark, opens them up and heals them.  The words take you away to a place where pains are soothed- connects you back to the Savior.  I find myself gasping for breath when I read the entries.  Swallowing back the lump that has formed in my throat (partly because of my enlarged thyroid but mostly because of the process of tears forming).  I yearn for the wisdom that this writer has, the ability to affect, to find forgiveness.  Perhaps it's because my connection with my heavenly Father has been so short circuited recently on my part.  I yearn to have such faith.

How easy for me to somehow come up with a crazy system in my mind of how I measure up.  IF our home is clean and IF I make a meal, then I am worthy of my wife status.  IF I finish teaching my girls how to read, then I can claim my mom title.  Breathe, I tell myself.  In and out.  Keep at it.  Repeat.  Relish the moment.  The security I have in my Father.  My 8 year old ballerina has mastered the art of living in the moment.  Living to her is now.  Sure she looks forward to special days with anticipation but in the meantime it's all about what her hands are touching, her eyes are seeing.  A rock isn't just a rock to her.  It's a shape to be explored, maybe even painted or given away as a precious jewel.  A path is meant to be followed, a hill to be rolled down, a stream to be splashed in, a creeping crawling critter outfitted with a container for a home, sticks and all...  

Because it's mid afternoon and I haven't eaten a meal or done anything except write this entry, I need to leave you now but not until I type a few more words.  Words from another artist who inspires me.  

"There is Nothing" by Laura Story

Lord, I come before You to honor and adore You

For who You are and all that You have done.

Lord, I am not worthy; my heart is dark and dirty.

Still, somehow, You bid for me to come.

So clothe me, humility;

Remind me that I come before a King.

And there is nothing, there is nothing

More precious, more worthy.

May I gaze deeper; may I stay longer.

May I press onward to know You, Lord...

Wake up only to find that you are still snoring

On May 4th my husband and I celebrated 13 years of marriage.  Pretty amazing he has stuck by my side all these years.  So thankful to have his steady, unwavering support.  He has only used kind and uplifting words when describing me.  My dear husband recently declared to me that I should try breathe right strips.  He said I have started snoring, again.  Or perhaps it is that I never stopped snoring and only now is he noticing it after all this time.  

There were times over the years that loving people with good intentions would comment on this "problem" that I had- college roommates, people I shared a room with during retreats, a family member who will remain nameless that chose to sleep on a sofa (while pregnant) just to get away from the offending snorer.  I never really viewed it as my problem seeing as I was sleeping through it just fine!  There never seemed to be anything that I should be doing to correct it.  

When Andy and I were first married he mentioned my snoring in passing a few times but that was it.  He is a very sound sleeper.  I assumed this "problem" had managed to resolve itself.  In light of this new revelation that Andy is hearing me snoring again for whatever reason, I may just have to give those strips a try.  It's a marriage after all.  After 13 years I still struggle with wanting to take more than I give.  It's a small thing, but it's a choice that I can make to show my husband that I value him and his advice.