Sentiment for my Mother-in-Law

My daughter is about to have one. I am about to become one. And, so, as I walk the streets of my foothill town and trying to calm nerves and release endorphins, I find my mind swirling and spinning back to the time when I had a Mother-in-Law.

I think back two decades, and remember the time when I was a young bride. I should not have even been allowed to have a Mother-in-Law, because I certainly didn't know how to handle one with care. I didn't know that Mother-in-Laws are fragile and sensitive. I had no understanding to that which she was giving up, on the day of my wedding. I did not know that the struggle I had with her for power or control would become insignificant in a very short time. I didn't know that she would soon become one of my greatest fans. 

I wandered through the first few years of my marriage easily irritated by things she would say. Jumping into the role of the nagging and negative wife. It wasn't the best time of my marriage, and now, when I consider the mindset I had, it is so obvious as to the root of the problems. This need for control. This desire to decide. 

It is a brutally sinful place for a woman to reside; sitting next to a tree in the middle of Eden, eating her apple of control, wanting to make each decision fall the way she has determined.

Fortunately for me, I found my way free from this place of selfishness. Somewhere between the graveyard of my daughter and the little league field of my children, I recognized that this woman did not only love her grandchildren, but she loved me. She loved her daughter-in-law as a Mother loves a child. She wanted my success. She wanted me to achieve and she was proud of any of my goals gained.

Sadly, it wasn't too long ago that she began to disappear. She became engulfed by her disease. Knowledge became her enemy as her memories became unobtainable. The darkness from her disease took her away from us, and now when I think of what we lost, my words work against me to describe my feelings. 

I know it is sadness. And I know it is regret. But, it is deeper. It is like my heart gets so heavy that it sinks down and causes my soul to crease. And when you have a crease in your soul, you can't ever make that go away.

I want so badly to go back and love her better. I want to go back and appreciate her for her willingness to love me and accept me into her family. Flaws, failures and shame~but she didn't see those things. 

Moving forward, with a wedding in 10 days, I am to become a young man's Mother-in-Law and I will have the chance to love him in spite of flaws, failures and shame. My daughter will be received into another family and everyday I pray that she will be loved as fully as I was.

T is for the Triplets...and Grace

Once upon a time there were three sisters, each born a day apart. The three sisters were called Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow and they had lived their whole lives sharing the same home. Each of the sisters was unique in her perception of the home, and for matter, the world.

The oldest sister,Yesterday was a remarkable storyteller and could entertain guests for hours. She had a way of weaving together a tale that could draw out both laughter and tears. Her gift was quite pleasant, as she could inspire her sisters to see the good in all of their adventures.

The youngest sister, Tomorrow, was a dreamer. Because she was a planner, she was constantly coming up with new ways that the sisters could improve their home. She had grand ideas, and could inspire them to believe that the future was something to be embraced. Her sisters enjoyed her, because she gave them hope. 

And in between these two lovelies, was the middle child, the sister called Today. Today had the hardest life of them all, for she was a task master of sorts. If anyone was going to get the days chores done, it would be Today. Quite often, Tomorrow would promise that she would take care of an errand, but in the end it would still fall on the shoulders of Today. And each day Today would fall into bed, exhausted from a day doing chores, only to wake the next morning and hear Yesterday taking the credit.

The three sisters had lived together, for all of their lives, and and seemed to have achieved some semblance of unity, however, with each passing year Today became more and more intolerant of Yesterday and Tomorrow. She was only able to see how each one should change. The stories of Yesterday became bothersome to Today, because when Today remembered the events that Yesterday shared, she didn't remember them being quite so charming and filled with joy. She remembered them being mundane and tiresome. Today also became easily frustrated with Tomorrow, because Today felt like Tomorrow was believing in things that were far fetched and unrealistic.

"Tomorrow lives with her heads in the clouds!" Today exclaimed one afternoon, "Talk to her, Yesterday, and tell her the mistakes that have been made! Surely then she will see that she's reaching too far! Help her to stop yearning for more!"

So, Yesterday began to think of the stories that only focused on the mistakes that had been made in the past. But, the more she focused on the bad things, the more depressed she became. She would tell her stories to her sisters, but no one laughed and when the tears came down, they didn't feel good. Tomorrow listen intently to these stories of error, and it wasn't too long before Tomorrow began to feel anxious. Soon, Tomorrow didn't spend her time dreaming of the things they could do, rather, she spent her time fearful of what might be coming their way. 

After too many months of living this way, Today looked around at the way they had changed, and she realized the damage that she had done. Yesterday spent most of her day sleeping, avoiding remembering. Tomorrow was consumed with the things that could go wrong, but she still didn't help with any of the chores. Today was dumbfounded at what she had done, for she had not realized the power she had. 

Then one morning, Today went to the Master, and she said, "What shall I do about Yesterday and Tomorrow? I behaved badly, and they are paying the price."

The Master responded quite gently, "There is someone I know who you need to meet. Today, I want to introduce you to Grace."

So, Today spent hours in the presence of Grace, and later that evening she brought Grace into her home. Grace approached Yesterday with a warm, gentle smile. Slowly, she began to coax the goodness out of Yesterday. Yesterday loved Grace and began to wonder how she had lived so many days without her. 

Grace smiled at Tomorrow and then gave her a wink. Tomorrow was intrigued and said, "What do you know?"

"I know that you are Tomorrow," Grace's smile never waned, "and the dreams that you have are what change this house to a home. I know that Yesterday and Today depend on the hope of Tomorrow."

The three sisters asked Grace to stay in their home, and from that moment on, the stories of Yesterday, the dreams of Tomorrow and even the happenings of Today, all took place with Grace.

Counting my One Thousand Gifts for Multitudes on Mondays

38:: Yesterday, thank you for the stories and the lessons learned from your view.

39:: Today, the day is sprinkled with gifts, in spite of the chores. The Master will help us see the good before the Tomorrow is Yesterday.

40:: Tomorrow, thank you for believing more for me, than I believe for myself.

41:: Grace, without you, my days are nothing.

Q is for Quadragenarian

Ruth Huber Park is usually crowded, filled with soccer balls and the children who kick them, toddlers and the parents who swing them. Filled with noise and sunshine. But, at 6 AM, the park is quiet and misty. The Quadragenarian makes her way pass the playground equipment and toward the line of trees on the far edge of the park. She longs for the stillness of the park to penetrate her being. To calm her wild mind. She knows she shouldn't hold in all the struggles she's bearing, she should give them up to the Lord. But, she's tired and worn, so she puts it off for another day. Lately, her life has been spinning and swirling, and when she falls into bed each night, she prays, no begs, for peace. Most nights she finds blackness, which she decides, is fine. Dreams are overrated, and really, they were meant for the young. 

She used to dream ferociously, reckless movies while she slept. She used to dream longingly, romance unattained. She used to dream effortlessly, floating down a nighttime river to the dawn. Now, she doesn't spend her sleeping energy dreaming, she just...goes...to...sleep. 

Last night was far different, and it stayed for so long. She dreamed that she traveled back many years and watched her young self from afar. She saw herself insecure--looking into a mirror, crying at the shape of her face and wave in her hair. She felt for a moment the sting of regret. Disappointment was tearing into her soul. Opportunities lost. Anguish overwhelming. Too late to go back, she saw her former self hurting, broken and alone. She watched the girl write pleas for help in a diary, then lock its secrets inside.
When she woke in this state, she knew, for some reason, she was to come to this park. She prayed, "Why God? What will I find?" 
His answer was a whisper, "Go. There are things that need to be heard"

So, the Quadragenarian climbed into the family car, and drove to the park. She walked to edge of the woods and she waited. Waited to be heard. Perhaps she had come here to tell the girl of her youth all the things that she needed to know,

"You are so beautiful. Your face is so perfect, you've barely a flaw. Enjoy your supple skin, for one day you will have wrinkles, like me! And, these wrinkles, well, that's all you will see! 
"And why are you filled with regret? Life is not over! You have many things still to do. You don't know it now, but, one day,  the world will be different; different because of you. 
"And as for your secrets, don't hold them inside! Don't lock up your heart in your journal! You have no reason to hide! And, trust in your Father, lean close to Him. He got plans for your future, and that time begins now."

The Quadragenarian waited. She waited and wondered. Wondered when the time would arrive for her words to be said? Just then in the trees, a shadow appeared. Approaching her slowly was woman far past her prime, and as she got closer, the Quadragenarian saw herself in the smile. The familiar old woman then reached out with her words, and she spoke ever so carefully what needed to be heard,

"I am Octogenarian, and I must say, you are so beautiful. Your face is so perfect, you've barely a flaw. Enjoy your   wonderful skin, for one day you will have wrinkles, like me! And, these wrinkles, well, that's all they will see! 
"And why are you filled with regret? Life is not over! You have many things still to do. You don't know it now, but, one day,  the world will be different; different because of you. 
"And as for your secrets, don't hold them inside! Don't lock up your heart in your mind!  You have no reason to hide. And, trust in your Father, lean close to Him. He got plans for your future, and that time begins now."

A is for Accessible

Having two young men in my life who own the letter 'A' and equal parts of my heart, I could never choose one 'A' name without tearing my own soul in half. My son's names, Austin and/or Adam were not to be the easy 'A' for this journey through the alphabet. 

In my attempt to search deeper for things, I have been coming to discover that the more accessible things are the more I take them for granted. So much is attainable and within my reach, and yet, those are the things I consistently take for granted. I am blessed by them and I don't want them to go away, but I wrongly assume that they will always be there and that everyone else has them as well. 

During the afternoon, my husband and I drove to the beach with our youngest son, our often quiet 16-year-old. I wanted to hear from him. I wanted to hear about his day, hear about the girl that has his eye, his thoughts on his friend's parent's decision to divorce. I wanted to hear his heart. His father and I were available to him, and yet, it took such energy and purpose to entice him into sharing. Teasingly, I told him, "One day, I will be gone--and you will miss the day I made you come to the beach to be bored."

Later that evening, my own Mother called. She had read my blog and heard my heart. She wanted to talk, she wanted to be available to me, to be accessible. But, in tune with the nature that I have demonstrated to my son, I pulled away. "Mom, I'm fine." The moment was lost. And, somewhere on a distant shoreline of a beach, where I will one day sit and miss my Mother, the waves were breaking. 

It is part of our nature to take for granted that which is accessible, and we do it all day long. We have done it since the beginning of time and we will battle it until the Lord returns. So, while I did not earn an "Easy A" for my letter today, I did learn more about myself and more about who I want to be. And, in the night, when my heart ached with regret for moments that have been lost and fear for what still may be taken, I heard a whisper...

"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you..." And clinging to the words of James, the brother of Jesus, I remembered that in the darkest night, God is always accessible.

LINKING TODAY with ABC WEDNESDAY. Click on over to read more about the letter Aa.

Day One -- The Wall

 I have come upon a wall, a familiar one. The wall is named doubt and insecurity--but it tries to convince me that those names are unwarranted. If you could see it, you would be surprised...it isn't gray and deteriorated. It is lovely, covered in ivy and purple enchanting flowers; it is successfully enticing and relaxing. It tells me to stop and stay where I am. I lures me into believing that this place is safe and fulfilling. But, my curiosity beckons me to lift the ivy away from the wall and see what someone has scrawled underneath. I pull the green leaves away wondering if I will find the initials of past lovers who pulled the bench close to the wall and lingered in a wistful embrace before engraving their initials as a promise to remember.

No initials find me. Instead I am met with a confession. The confession reads like a warning, a plea.

I gave up at this wall.

My heart is sad. I don't want to think of myself as giving up. I try to convince myself, "I am not giving up, I am just resting!" Right? 

"I will continue. I will not stop and savor so long that I forget where I was heading and what waits on the other side." Will I? But, then I wonder...what is on the other side? 

I slide down the wall and lay my head against the ivy...and wonder. Will I ever know? Will I get to the other side to see. Reaching back into the ivy, I pull it away and I see...initials. Initials? 

J.S.

"No!" Stunned...I step away and remember another day. Another dream. How many dreams have I allowed to float away on the breeze, while I stood near the wall of self doubt? How many times have I listened to the negative self talk, rather than the chirping of the song bird, whose gentle voice was telling me the way to the gate?

I'm issuing myself a challenge and I'm inviting you to come along! My words are not coming out of my brain, through my mess of a hair, landing on my shoulders, moving down my arms, into my fingers and onto the keyboard the way I want them to. I have decided that I am going to write a short but thoughtful entry each day to correspond with the LETTERS in the ALPHABET. From A-Z, I will explore some thoughts. Things I am thankful for and things I am not. Things that I may find in my refrigerator or at the bottom of my purse.

PLEASE join me tomorrow and LEAVE ME your own thought that CORRESPONDS with the LETTER for the day. Tomorrow will be A.   

You have time to think today. Tomorrow, when I post my blog on the letter A's topic...you can comment and let me know what you came up with. It may take less than 28 days to get around this wall...but, we will take our time and enjoy the journey from A to Z.

Bikini Consequences

Bikini Contest = Big Mistake

Long Term Consequences = Unknown

I was awake and my mind was spinning at 4 AM, when I remembered an event that I haven't shared with too many people. About one year prior to coming to know the Lord, and making the decision to live my life in a way that would bring Him honor, I vacationed with a few friends at "The River" for a weekend. There were three of us and we worked together as cashiers & hostesses at a local steakhouse.

I remember very little about the weekend, except for one event. Late Saturday afternoon, on the edge of the riverbed, a few young men in a burgundy pick-up truck, announced, with music blaring in the background, that they would be having a "bikini contest". All young women were invited to join. (Really? How inclusive of them.) My friends and I were intrigued because they were offering a cash prize to the winner. All that we would have to do is stand in the back of the truck and dance to the music in our bikinis, and we would be eliminated based on the amount of applause we got when the one of the young men placed their hand over our heads. Two of us decided to participate. I barely remember the girl who did the dancing with me that day. But, I'll never forget my friend, Kathy, who did not. She stood back and watched. She didn't tell us that we shouldn't, she was just sure that she wouldn't. I remember that somehow, certainly not due to my dancing ability, I made it to the final cut. It was me and one other 20-something woman dancing in the back of a pick-up truck, in front of a group of drunken, male strangers, all in the hope of winning 50 bucks. I didn't win, I lost to another lost soul.

Visualizing it, recording it through keystroke, imagining you reading it--makes me feel nauseous today. Years later, I realized that the whole event was demoralizing and perverse, and I wish that I had made a different choice.

But, here's the part that hurts even more. A few months after we returned home from the river trip, Kathy got a second job. She wouldn't tell me where it was, just that it was on a very busy street near our home, Beach Blvd. She said that she was a "dancer", and that she was making way more money working there than she made working as a hostess. She told me that after she saw how much attention I had received at the river, she realized that she was jealous of me, and wanted to see if she would be good at it. She said that she was getting more attention than she had ever received in her life. I told her that I wanted to come see her dance at the club. She said that would never happen. She told me that she couldn't take the chance of them finding out she wasn't 21 years old, and that she didn't want me to see her take off her clothes.

Thomas Merton says in his book, "No Man Is an Island"
"Every other man is a piece of myself, for I am a part and a member of mankind...What I do is also done for them and with them and by them. What they do is done in me and by me and for me. But each one of us remains responsible for his own share in the life of the whole body."

I am reminded that over the years, being the wife of a Youth Pastor, young women have followed my advice and my example and I have been able to reap the rewards of watching their fruitful lives and ministries. But, I also cannot forget that there is another young woman who, while following my example, went down a road that I can only hope did not lead to a lifetime of regret.

Everything we do will have an effect on other people and, eventually, society as a whole. This is why it is so important that we choose wisely. Even while writing this post, I question myself, "Should I reveal this? I have a teenage son. I have a husband in the ministry. Is this proper to talk about?" And then I remember, that I decided a long time ago that I was going to be completely transparent with the good and the bad. When I present my ugly past to the Lord for His use He burns away the scum and the slime and the leaves me with ashes of beauty. My life has never been solely my own, my life is part of a bigger societal and eternal picture--so is yours.

"It is therefore of supreme importance that we consent to live not for ourselves but for others." ---Thomas Merton

Little Butterfly

We have all done things that we regret. Almost nightly I fall into bed and while the pillow is still cool, I am already wondering about half of the day’s choices. Sometimes the decisions are small and seemingly insignificant. 

"Ah, I should have tipped the barista...why didn't I walk after dinner?..did I really just spend 36 dollars on hair conditioner?" But, sometimes the regrets are bigger. Sometimes they linger for years and left unattended--they don't go away; they seem to come back and attack you when you are least likely to be able to defend yourself.

Facebook has opened up a whole world of connection to a lot of mid-lifers and we are looking at our choices once again. Some of our choices were clearly for the better, but, some are a little cloudier. Names are more recognizable than faces, and our memories have altered the truth of the time. We remember small details with large definition, never realizing that others will remember things differently.

Recently, thanks to the big blue f, I have been able to reconnect with friends from High School. Some of the women, who I once was a cheerleader with in the 80's, met for a day out on the ocean to do some kayaking. As we rowed our little kayaks along the harbor we all had so many questions for one another. We had each heard a little bit about an old classmate--I had the least information, so I had the most to learn.

After an hour of rowing, I finally asked about "that boy". He wasn't a boy I was in love with as a teenager. We weren't an item in any way. I never even dated him. He was more of a mistake that led to years of heartache. He was a boy who asked for a ride home from a party, which led to an unplanned pregnancy. I was 17, a few months away from graduation, and pregnant with a baby from a boy I barely knew. 

I chose the path of abortion. 

My mom took me and I had a second trimester abortion on a Saturday morning. I was able to go back to school on Monday morning and make plans for Prom and Grad night with all my peers. My little heart was broken, but I wouldn't even begin to feel the pain from that break for many years. I really expected to hear that the "boy" was living a life similar to most of the guys from high school; working a job he never intended, attending his kids sports events and maybe on his second marriage. 

What I got was, for some reason, a little more unusual. He had gone on to marry a former sitcom star and they had just recently had a baby. The star and her baby were even in People magazine. I am not sure why this was confusing, but I became acutely aware that I was feeling new thoughts about my little unborn baby.

Their new little baby was the 1/2 brother to my little unborn baby. For some reason, knowing who he married and knowing that I used to watch her on TV every week and knowing that we were in a way--connected--made me feel strange. 

Why? 

I am not really sure, perhaps because in a spiritual way our kids are connected. According to the real world, it's really not a connection, and I'm not going to become a stalker. It's just a reminder that our world is so small. It's also a memory of a little baby who never had a chance. He was conceived at the wrong time to the wrong parents.

For a long time I have been aware of the fact that my world would be different had he been born. My husband was in Bible College when we met and in 1985 a single mom with a 2-year-old was not the best choice for a church Pastor. 

But, today I am thinking about how the WHOLE world would have been altered by his birth. Anyone who has ever seen Ashton Kutcher's movie "The Butterfly Effect" knows that changes don't always work out for the best. I am not going to fool myself into believing that it would all be perfect if I had chosen to not have an abortion. I know that I can't look back or I will just keep tripping over my feet in the here and now. I also know that while I may wish I had made different choices these are the choices I did make and they are part of what makes me who I am.  

One summer day, about 14 years ago, I was watching my {then} 3-year-old son learn to swim and I had a fleeting thought about the baby that was never born in 1983. I wondered if I would have been as good of a mom to him as I was to my son. And suddenly, a light came on, a light of love and forgiveness told me, "Yes." I am who I am, and I was me along time ago.

I would have loved him and watched him with pride during his swim lessons, read him Dr. Seuss and eventually would have fought with him about cleaning his room and doing his Algebra homework. I would have snuck in his room to read his text messages and kissed him on his forehead while he slept. But that's not the point anymore. My little butterfly didn't get to come into this world to help me become a better person, but he was still here inside of me and he was still able to help me become the best mom I could be. The best person I could be. He was just a flutter, only here for a moment and his effect still lasts. The changes were within a teenage girl who grew up to be a little more humble, way more approachable and always longing for God's attainable Grace.

Linking today for On My Heart Tuesdays with Shanda @ A Pause on the Path