Rain, Rain, Go Away

Flood Advisories are a common occurrence in the Abilene area. As I understand it, we are in a "bowl". So, I think that we receive water from the higher elevations. The worst rain came when we initially arrived in town. I was in awe of the standing water throughout town. Not exactly sure why it was so fascinating. I just kept seeing the cars drive through the huge puddles and the water going everywhere. Just when I thought, "I am overreacting to this rain situation", our van stalled. Thankfully, it started back up relatively quickly. Today, there is a flood advisory, and a flash flood advisory.

I am not too worried about the weather. It hasn't rained hard today. That being said, I think flash floods occur quickly, with very little warning. Hence, the advanced warning, pre-inclement weather notification. The weather people want us to know to know before we leave the house that the rain may come quickly, and heavily. "Beware", "Be On Guard", "Danger", "Stay Out", "Be prepared to seek higher ground", are the messages communicated through these advisories and notifications.

I would so like to have an advisory/warning for my life. You know, the warnings that would start the day; before words are spoken, actions taken, or decisions made. Like, "Beware of flying negativity, doubt, and false thinking.", "Be on Guard for injustice and hatefulness.", "Danger: Bad attitudes ahead.", "Stay Out: You will lose your cool and end up doing something you will regret.", and perhaps what would be most helpful for knowing, "Be prepared to seek Higher Ground." I would be so excited to have these warnings, the advisories. Perhaps I should assume these things, regardless of the day. Aren't we all bombarded by negativity, doubt, injustice, hatefulness, bad attitudes, raging tempers, and need for Higher Ground. I can look out the window and see the looming clouds, the gray dark gloomy skies and know that I should take precautions. Grab my umbrella, put on a raincoat, and be alert for rising water.

There are cues, signs, and visual indications that bad weather is possible. I see darkness in this world before I even walk out the door. The bickering of children, the status updates on facebook that give warning to the pain and suffering that this world heaps upon good and loving people. There are signs on the news, on the radio, and in our own families that are sirens, flashing lights, dark clouds, and pouring rain, They are the inevitable indicators of a lost world, a broken humanity. It is a heartbreaking reality. A reality of which I pretend to be ignorant. When I walk knowingly into the rushing water, I would like to have an excuse, such as, "I didn't know any better." It will make my cry for help seem more genuine and urgent.

I guess that is my general reason for staying ignorant. I want the excuse. But, regardless of my reason, the truth is, I do know and am educated about the darkness, both from the clouds and from our humanity. Knowing this, I will have to seek Higher Ground ALL the time. Not just when the warning is scrolled on the bottom of the screen or prompted on the radio. It will need to be my constant, unyielding search each moment of each day. For those of us who like to remain ignorant, to maintain our excuses, I could leave this analogy vague and inconclusive. We could both walk away with the vague awareness that if it rains, or if life presents dark moments, we need to stay above ground and out of the danger. But, I don't want to live in ignorance about where I need to go when life is too dark, stormy, cloudy, or altogether disastrous. God=Higher Ground. There is no excuse now. God offers the only ground that will be able to provide safety and protection when the waters of life start to rise. I do realize that he can not give us the cloud to float us out of the danger. But, He does give us the confidence to walk through the storms knowing that He is always with us. He doesn't keep us from getting drenched, or wading into rapids of rising water.

So be on guard, beware and look for Higher Ground at all times. We are not going to be alone in the torrential down pours, nor will be abandoned in rising waters.

If the walls could talk

My son, Colin, read this poem to us this evening. He wrote it as an assignment in his 6th Grade Language Arts Class. It is very special. It makes me very proud to be his mom, and to be my dad's daughter.

It seems like only yesterday he left for Vietnam, says his walls.
He had four children, says the couch.
He hasn't seen them much since he moved. He has been so sick since he got cancer.
He had three dogs, but one of them died from old age.
He loved to cook, says the worn out stove.
He loved to eat, but he never did gain wight.
He was over seas during the war.
He was a Christian, says the fairly worn out Bible.
He was very young when he died. He was only 63 when he couldn't fight cancer any longer, say the empty pill boxes on his bedside.
His wife feels lonely without him. The grand kids miss him.
Everyone misses him, says the closet.
He always has a lot of flowers at his grave.
I hope to see him in heaven, say the dogs.
He was a very good man, says the bed.
He was an honorable man, and I was glad to be his pet, says the youngest dog.
He rests in Indianapolis, and I am very glad to be moving their soon, says the older dog.
He was as sweet as sugar, says the flour.
What are you talking about? He is a stubborn donkey, says the sugar.
Once I slipped on the the slippery floor and chipped. That gave him a sly smile, says the plate.
He is now in heaven.
He will be well taken care of there says a lizard who stays close to the house.
Rest in peace, says the house.

Ah, my precious, sweet, PRS'ing boy. You brought me to tears. I am so thankful that you shared this poem with me. Your grandfather is slyly smiling, and very thankful that you knew him so well.

Breathing

Sometimes, breathing takes more effort than it should. You know those days? When taking in air feels like it is choking you? It's not supposed to feel like that, is it? I am pretty sure that breathing is one of those involuntary actions that is meant to bring relief when considered consciously, not cause pain or suffocation. But, I am really thinking that breathing in and out over this past weekend has taken more effort that it should have.

Maybe it's because, in an effort to hold my tongue, I had to gulp air in instead of inhale in a very easy, unconscious manner as God intended. I felt all weekend that if given the chance, I would use the air in my body to unleash a fury of words on a family member who was testing my patience and gentleness in every manner possible. I initially believed that the effort to push me to the edge was unconscious on her part. Who would intentionally want to cause such discomfort and uneasiness on anyone, let alone a family member. Wait a minute, scratch that question. Who better or more likely to vomit anger and bitterness upon than a family member? Family can't disregard or run, they are required to stand in the line of fire and accept the the benefits and the deficits of being a member of the family. If done to a stranger, they may be put in their place, or even worse, be put 10 feet under with the same wrath in which they were instigating.

Enough of the vague references, if I am to be honest with you, I will have to share the reality of the weekend's unpleasantness. The in-laws were in town! Yes, the in-laws. Does God have a book of the Bible dedicated to the pain, suffering, and discord that the IN-LAWS? Better yet, what about a book on the grace that must be called upon to deal with the in-laws? I am sure many can offer their wisdom, but can any explain how to get air into my body without it literally causing pain while dealing with the in-laws? Let me be clear, so that the in-laws who read this know I am not referring to them. Chris' parents were in town this weekend. So, my angst, frustration, confusion and disbelief is directly related to just them. Chris' parents have raised 3 beautiful children, and I am lucky to be married to a great man that I can thank them for raising. He has unyielding loyalty to his family, friends, colleagues and students. The behavior of his parents is not representative of their children, so I can only assume that there is much more going on in their lives than we are privy to. I am sad that we don't get to know their hearts better so we can love and accept them for who they are, instead of the actions that we must ignorantly interpret. It can't be easy. We see them only 3-4 times a year. We have struggled and attempted to walk with dignity through trying times. They see the new place we are in, and they have heard the difficulties we have experienced in getting here. There hearts must have broken time and time again knowing how hard it has been for their son and their grandchildren, and even me.

Some very uncharacteristic behavior, including physical interactions, verbal assaults with critical, cynical, and sarcastic currents, as well as outright disrespect were offered in full doses throughout the weekend. From being grabbed by the arm, having my face grabbed in attempt to get my attention, to being told that I have not put my family as a priority; my mother-in-law made the point very clearly that I was not her favorite person. In fact, she outrightly told me, and Chris, that I was not important and that my needs were secondary to the needs of her son. Duh! Spoken like only a mother protective of her baby boy could venomously speak. She challenged me to consider my behaviors and justify to myself whether I had put her son first, or at least attempted to. I think she was looking for a reckoning! (We spoke of God'sreckoning with Job in Sunday School class today. Look, I was paying attention, and I am using it in my own tale.) She was ready to lay into me, and share what she had been carrying around in her heart and mind all weekend, if not the past 19 years that Chris and I have been a couple. Those of you who know me, know that I am not afraid of these moments, and sometimes even enjoy them. I like the discord that conflict brings, mostly because it will lead to harmony and understanding.

But, given the emotional upheaval of the past year, I was incapable of engaging in the moment and I think that really upset my mother in-law. She was looking for a battle, and in the past I would have eagerly engaged. But, I have seen life differently since my father died in May. Sometimes I gave my energy away to people, circumstances, moments that didn't deserve my attention. I did it selfishly; because it felt good to have the adrenaline rush that discord often empowers. I did it unknowingly; because I didn't realize I needed that rush. I did it ashamedly; because I thought somehow if I proved my point, if I could out-argue my opponent, I was somehow "better". In my own defense, I also did it because God especially equipped me to speak. I am quick and I am articulate, sometimes to a fault. I don't say that because I need to boast or build myself up after cutting myself down. I say it because I am tired of making excuses and apologizing for who God created me to be. But, I am learning that I don't always enter into situations and interactions fully aware of God's timing and discernment.

I didn't feel the need to defend myself. There was nothing to defend. I apologized for hurting her, and I asked for forgiveness. I then went about my business of caring for my family. When the weekend came to an end, more aggression was offered as she voiced her anger about our family's decision to visit friends in Illinois at Halloween, and our indecision about our holiday plans. Though we did commit to spending one of the upcoming holidays with Chris' side of the family, I voiced our decision to consider my mom's needs, my side of the family's needs since this will be our first season without my dad. This obviously was not what she wanted to hear. She was angry and hurt. Certainly not our intention, but I can see that she would be disappointed. Many hurtful things were said as she expressed her disappointment with our priorities being on our friends, and not on the family. (Side note: I don't think she realizes that if I don't get to see my friends in Illinois face to face, live and in person, she will have a lot more to worry about in regards to our priorities. It is in every one's best interest, and my own mental health and stability to be able to go to see my friends in Illinois and my family in Indianapolis. She would have to watch her husband be driven crazy by his lunatic wife if I am unable to stay connected with those who have meant so much to our family.)

Let me wind this down so I can pay attention to my priorities as they return from church. It is hard to breathe sometimes. It is hard to get air in and out when you feel like you are drowning in your inabilities to meet expectations. Maybe it is just me, but I have a feeling that at one time or another, we all struggle with breathing and allowing the air to fill us up, instead of suffocate us. I found myself there this weekend, and I know there will be times ahead. So what do you do? What did I do?

I prayed. I cried. I communicated my discontent on face book. I called my mom. I wished for my dad. I got angry with my husband. I tried to protect my children. I called my friends. I went to church. I cried some more. I breathed through the pain and the contempt that I was feeling at being unable to share myself with these people who are so important to us. I grieved, and I believe that the spirit grieved within me. We grieved together for the pain they must be feeling to be so hurtful to those they love. We grieved for the detachment that is inevitable when judgment and bitterness become the response to relationships between family and friends. I am finding it easier to breathe this evening, but the tears that I have been holding back are flooding down my cheeks. I wish I could go back and isolate the moment that hurt my mother in-law so I could make it right. This weekend has brought back many painful moments that I would like to go back and isolate in hopes of correcting and making right. That isn't an option. So I will grieve the brokenness in this moment, and I will grieve the brokenness of other relationships that I miss and want to reconcile. Waiting for God's time, and the patience to accept, forgive, and love even in the midst of the pain of broken relationships. Most of all, I am hoping and believing in God's perfect peace and comfort.

Joy in the morning

Just a quick note to pour out a bit of the thoughts that are rambling through my brain. It's been so good being with my mom. I enjoy hearing about her days, her job, and her hopes for the future. There are glimpses of her heart that make me want to cry as she shares the sadness of being without my dad. It hasn't become real to us as we didn't get to see him too frequently. We know he isn't here, but we haven't felt the loss because our daily life hasn't been too disrupted. It seems a bit unfair that my mom should carry the burden of this loss all on her own. But, none of us can bring him back, and none of us can fill the hole that has been left.

I wonder how it came to pass that we stopped being a part of my dad's everyday life. It seems like a natural progression, but now it doesn't seem right. There have been many people who were part of my everyday interactions. Some were there for only a short time, and others were by my side everyday. Even when I didn't get to see them, or talk to them, they were with me. Friends, co-workers, family, and even the Starbucks worker at the corner shared in my everyday activities. I think my dad was still a part of each day. I talk to my mom almost everyday. He must have heard about what was going on with all of his children. We all knew a little of what was going on with him. My parents didn't want to share the intensity of the illness and how it had stolen so much of who my father was. He has been a part of each season of my life, and he still is.

Now, my family, (Chris, Colin, Julia, and I) are trying to create connections to our new life here in Abilene. There are still many friends and family members who are still a part of our everyday. My heart breaks for several relationships that have already seemed to lose relevance, simply because we left. I knew it would happen, but I am surprised by many of the losses. Life does continue to move forward, doesn't it? And, as much as we want to hold tight to people and relationships that have meant so much, it is inevitable that some will fall away out of sheer lack of proximity. Of course, the realization doesn't ease the pain. I don't miss these people less because I understand the reasons why. There are several that I still don't understand, and I guess the pain intensifies knowing that I can't articulate why our friendship was lost.

Having my mom come to visit means so much. She has caught a glimpse of where we are and how we live. She now knows the grocery store, the coffee shop, the gas station, the restaurants, my bedroom, my kitchen, and my backyard. When I share, she will know many of the places and people that I refer to. I know not everyone will be able to see this time in my life. We are meant to go forward through this season clinging to one another, our family. It is good. But, I would be lying, hiding, and denying all that I am to not admit to the sadness and pain of not having my friends and family intricately involved in our life right now. I am catching glimpses of my friends' lives and loves, but I don't get to be a part of where they are and who they are becoming.

My mom will leave the day after tomorrow. We have both begun crying about that reality. I don't want her to go. I know it is selfish of me. It is hard letting go, and I simply don't want to have to let go of anything else. I will, and I will be fine. She will be fine. We will be fine. I know this and I am thankful that I have friends who will remind me of this truth when I forget. My dad's birthday is Friday. Sara's birthday is Friday. It is hard knowing the emptiness left in the lives of those who will forever grieve the loss of these people. It is hard knowing the pain of all those who have lost loved ones. I won't linger long on this because it is simply too painful. It literally hurts to know that these people aren't in this world anymore. But, I have hope unending that I will, we will, see our loved ones again.

I know I will see them, so I have security and comfort. As I write this, I believe that I have to take that hope, that assurance into my daily walk. I have to trust that God will give us joy in the morning even as we don't know what the morning will hold. It is vital that I live in this truth. I was going to say, "I don't have the same certainty for those of us who continue to walk in this world". But, as soon as that thought came into my mind, I realized, that is so not true. I do have certainty that I can claim. Joy will be in the morning, regardless of what the day brings. I will be with my dad, with my friends, with my family. I want to share this hope with those who don't know a loving God who does bring joy. I haven't done it all right. In fact, I have done very little right. But, my God, your God, still loves me (and you) and accepts us despite our inabilities and failures. There will be joy in the morning because I will forever have forgiveness and love in the sight of my Father. So, I will be sad, lonely, and broken tonight. He is with me in this moment. And, you too, can be broken and hurting right here and now. Confused, deranged, deluded, lost, sinking, stubborn, inconsolable, and hopeless are not places that God ignores or detours. He will be with us in these broken places, and He will endure the darkness with us. In the morning, if nobody else is there and/or if everyone has run to your side, He will be there. Thank you Jesus!

It's different, very different

What a great day. The weather was perfection. Beautiful sunshine, occasional fluffy cloud, hi of 85* and fresh smelling air proved to be a wonderful backdrop to a day full of laughter and peacefulness with my mom. It was a feeling that I haven't experienced for such a long time. I have laughed, and I have felt peaceful since we have moved, but today I got to be with my mom. It is a different feeling, more complete.

First, the laughter. We spent the morning walking through some cute little shops with funky, artsy garb. We decided to check out a furniture store that was along the strip of shops. We walked in and were impressed by beautiful leather couches, large wood armoires, and unique pieces that were clearly not going to be seen in my house while my children are still living with us. As we moved through the well ordained rooms of furniture, I turned to look at this bedroom furniture. As I was moving to catch up with my mom, I hadn't turned my head to look straight ahead and walked smack dab into a post that was in the middle of my path. You know the big posts that hold ceilings up and are the beams inserted into large rooms so the foundation of the second floor is secure? Yes, that is what I walked right into. Then, because nobody was watching and it clearly was a moment to be shared, I sang or shrieked or yelled in response to the shock. In that split second, my mother was able to turn around and see me forehead to post. She started laughing, and I am sure I referenced the need to go to the bathroom or fear an accident if I didn't stop laughing. It was great.

We ate at a great restaurant and enjoyed well prepared food in a cozy corner next to the window. We felt very healthy eating a salad with chicken and a vegetable plate of freshly roasted vegetables. It was fantastic. The fact that the special of the day was 2 fried pork chops with a side of white gravy and french fries or mashed potatoes made our choice of meals even healthier. We passed on the special, and the chicken fried steak, and the monster burgers. Restraint and fear of a heart attack played a strong role in our decision making process.

What was really exceptional about today was being able to talk about my dad. I got to talk about my dad with the person who knew him best, and the person who knows me best. (Sorry Chris-maybe after 40 years of marriage I will be able to say you know me best. I hope so. That is, I hope for the 40 years of marriage, and that it provides the opportunity for both of us grow in knowing one another; and more importantly, accepting one another. We have a good start in achieving this mighty challenge.) It was different for us to look at things and think, "Dad would like this...", or "If dad were here...". I use the word "different" because it wasn't exactly a sad sentiment, but it wasn't joyful either. It was different than other experiences we have had. There was no wondering if dad was going to be awake when we got home. No wondering what he would like for dinner, or if he would be up for eating. There was no being able to hear him say, "Hey Rose." when we walked through the door.

It is a different time. There is peace in knowing he isn't suffering, but there is sadness and heart break knowing that he isn't here. I loved being able to hear my mom talk about this man that I knew as my father, but who she knew as her husband. We talked about the roles we each share as moms, daughters, wives, sisters, and friends. Though her husband, parents, and one brother are no longer here, she doesn't relinquish the roles that she has held. But, it is very different. So very different. It has brought me so much peace to be able to talk about my dad and to laugh and cry with my mom. We haven't really sobbed together, but the tears are just a fleeting moment from flowing. There is something so refreshing and calming about being able to claim this person as a part of who we are, even though he isn't here, at least physically, anymore.

Not sure if the manner in which my dad passed,is in any way representative of how he lived. But, it does brings some sense of framing and context to his time in this world. My dad spent his last moments with my mom struggling to breathe, in the midst of choking and losing large amounts of blood. It was a gruesome, violent, and harsh by my mother's account and by my own consideration. My mom had a deep sense that she would be with him, and they would be alone in the home they shared together. And, that is indeed how it happened. She wasn't prepared for the quick, invasive pain and suffering that would end his life. We all had seen him decline and begin losing his physical body. But he was unwilling to give up. He was unwilling to give up his job, his truck, his home, his family (not in that order I assure you). He had spent his life fighting. He fought his way through childhood; bucking the system and rebelling against the status quo. He revolted against his mom and dad, and he revolted against his teachers. He had tumultuous job experiences. He worked harder than anyone I have ever known, and had a personal expectation of excellence in his work. However, he couldn't easily accept or tolerate work environments that didn't follow the same high expectation. Bummer for my mom who had to deal with the fluctuation in income that that resulted when he got fed up, or when others got fed up with him.

It seems somehow plausible, that even into his last breath, he struggled. Can you imagine God's open arms welcoming him, and my dad turning away? He may have not have turned away, but I can imagine him standing proud, raising an eyebrow, and saying, "I don't think so.", or, "Not yet." But, isn't it like our gracious God, who knows far better than we what is best, to have taken my dad, despite with fists raised and rebellion on his tongue. Though the end was violent, and heartbreaking for all of us, God took him quickly; within moments of the initial gasp for air and realization that the end was here. God could have let him struggle and wear himself out. He could have let my dad go on until his body had deteriorated even further. Even worse for any of us would have been if my dad lost his mental capacity to keep us all laughing and guessing at how he managed to persevere in the midst of this horrid disease. It was about time for someone to put him in his place.

The greater likelihood may be God was standing with open arms that morning as my dad went to get his coffee. My dad began his obstinate, rebellious, stubborn retort and God moved aside to allow my grandmother, my dad's mom, move forward with the stern command, "That's enough Jim. Get over here!" And with that, my dad threw up his arms and went home. Much like my children have done to me when it is time for dinner or I have put a stop to their arguing and tell them to go to their rooms. But, luckily my dad isn't going to have his human mother reprimanding him. Nor will he have God criticizing my dad's rebellious spirit. He will have the glory and promises God has promised to those who love him. He will have his body, his mind, his humor, his cookies, his candy, and his coffee. My dad is whole. Though we still feel incomplete without him here, it is with confidence and assurance that we move forward. My mom is the living testimony of his life; the goodness, the heartbreak and the humor that my dad shared. We each have a part of him with us always. It isn't the same though. It is very different.