Things I didn't see

 If I didn't get home and start writing, my head would explode.  

That's how I felt today on my drive home from work.  I just finished the book "Educated" by Tara Westover last night and it has had a profound effect on me.  Very profound.  I wasn't expecting that.  

I've been into memoirs lately.  I've never really enjoyed reading fiction, but I love hearing about other people's lives, true life stories about what they have experienced and how they perceived it and how it changed them.  I've read several memoirs, some of which were moving and thought provoking, but none have effected me like this one has and I'd like to discover why.  

I didn't think I had anything in common with the author as I read it.  Her life was very different from mine.  She grew up in rural Idaho in a strict Mormon family.  Her parents were radical in their beliefs, which took priority over everything and everyone.  They didn't believe in sending their children to school, were paranoid about the government and doctors, and they had very little interaction with the world outside of their farm.  She tells about her transformation from the girl she was taught to be and what she was taught to believe (with absolutely no margin to question or change) to learning to think for herself and developing her own beliefs and values.  She didn't abandon her childhood entirely, but learned to integrate what she wanted to preserve with new ideas and values that she chose for herself.  

I can relate to that process immensely, but I will get into that more later on.

What is most profound to me right now is what I've realized about my kids.  Their process of wanting to break free from their upbringing and define themselves on their own terms is natural, and something we all have done.  But I wasn't quite prepared for how it would make me feel.  

The most profound change has been with my first born.  We aren't as close as I yearn to be, as we used to be.  I miss him and my heart physically hurts sometimes because I sometimes feel like I've lost him.  I haven't seen him since our family Christmas and actually for several years he has made it clear that he really doesn't want to be here in our home, hanging out with the family, or with me.  He feels different from us, and in some ways doesn't feel accepted.  He thinks I keep trying to press him into the mold that I want him to fit into, the child he used to be.  I have rejected his idea that I have been doing this, but after reading this book and listening to some interviews with the author, I realize...I think I have in fact been doing that.  On some level anyway.  Not nearly to the extent that the author experienced, but I can see a glimmer from my son's perspective why he would feel that way.

I've had ideas of who he is, or who he should be in my eyes, since he was born.  They don't necessarily match who he is or wants to be for himself.  He has felt it, more than I knew.  I didn't even realize I was doing it to him.  I tried to raise my kids to be who they truly are . . . but through the lens of who I thought they should be, I guess.

Of course I raised them to have the values that were important to me.  I think we all do that as parents, by the way.  We can't help it and I really do think that's how it should be, to a certain extent.  I raised my kids to be kind, loving, responsible, empathetic, to be able to express their thoughts and emotions, to respect authority, and for me...the MOST important thing I wanted to instill in all of our kids, was faith in God and acceptance of Jesus as their Savior.  None of those things are wrong or bad for a parent to want for their children and I don't regret trying to instill these values in my kids at all.  

What I do regret, looking back, are the things that I didn't see. 

Imperfect progress and it's ok that I'm not there yet

Last night I had dinner with my friend Becky.  We sat in her newly remodeled kitchen...that she did ALL HERSELF by the way...painted the cabinets, recovered the dining room chairs, and even resurfaced the countertops HER OWN SELF.  She's that brave and creative and amazing.  

When we get together, it takes very little time for us to dive deep into what I call soul conversation...what we've been thinking about, struggling with, rejoicing over, and learning about ourselves and our faith and our relationships.  Last night was no different.  Two hours flew by in a nano second as we indulged in lo mein and egg rolls and coffee ice cream and rambled and ranted about all the things that have been making up our lives since last time we talked. 

One topic we spend quite a bit of time on (and have been for the past couple years actually) is how we are navigating this season of empty nesting and parenting young adult children who are their very own adult selves and don't want to be parented anymore.  

Sigh.

This is hard.

Harder than I thought it would be, and quite honestly I think so far I am sucking at it.

I used to think things would get easier as the kids got older, that the baby and toddler years were the most challenging and as they grew older and more independent, life would get easier.  It's so cute how I used to think that.  Nothing that I experienced through all the years of parenting, all the books I read and all the things I thought I knew...nothing prepared me for these years when they would leave the nest.  Forge out on their own, no longer wanting or needing my hovering -er, I mean guidance.  

At least when they were babies and they insisted on "me do!" I could still stand there and watch (ok, hover) to make sure they didn't harm themselves with their freedom and independence. But now, not so much.  Now it's "me do!" and "back off...farther...no, farther...keep going, Mom.  I can still see you and feel what you are thinking.  You need to let me go."  

I don’t want to hear that.  That makes my heart hurt and I want to die in my body.  I’d much prefer to hear something like “Mom, what do you think I should do” and “Let’s hang out together for four hours and eat cookie dough and make snow angels and cuddle.”  Or even “Mom, I still need you.”

But then I realize, with the help of my friend and egg rolls and lo mein and coffee ice cream...that this is part of the journey.  This is how it's supposed to be.  We raise them to not need us. 

And their lives are not about me.  

Even though I birthed (some of) them out of my own body, and we had them because we wanted babies and love and family and all the sweet, precious things that come with that forever.  And even though being a mother has been my life's focus and my highest calling for the past 23 years, I now need to swallow this very hard truth.  My kids are not here on this planet to make me feel fulfilled.  They are here to live their own lives, walk out their own journeys, and fulfill their own purposes in this world.  

I have always known this to be true in my brain.  It’s my heart that’s throwing a tantrum.  

Becky gets this.  We are walking parallel roads.  She shared advise she heard recently on how to deal with this so very strong mom desire to fix and help and teach and guide and make them wear their life jackets or better yet, come back to the shore where it's safe when the waters get choppy.  She said in those moments we have one thing to do.  Only one.  And that is to shut it.

Shut.

It.

They don’t want our advise.  Our wisdom doesn’t apply to their lives.  Not now anyway.  When they are in their 40’s they’ll feel differently, but for now they want and need to follow their own callings, make their own decisions and even their own mistakes.  It’s what I did, what we all did, but it's SOOOOOO hard when the maternal lifeguard takes over and we see the waves coming.  We want to make them see what we see, and do what we wish we woulda shoulda done when we saw those same waves coming at us when we were their ages.  When our moms tried to coax or warn us back to shore and we insisted on not.

As hard as it is, I'm learning to keep my feet planted firmly in the sand and enjoy life from the shore as they learn to sail their own boats.  I get the glorious joy and blessing of being part of their stories and sometimes riding along as a passenger and not in the driver's seat.  It's equally thrilling and terrifying, but I am learning to navigate my new role as mom of adult people. 

And I am immensely grateful to have Mr. Wonderful by my side to help keep me sane (not a small job).  He's so much farther along on this journey than I am, and he has unending  grace and patience with me while I figure this all out.  

I may not be there yet, but I'm on my way.

Praise workouts and the way it's (not) supposed to be

So I started working out.  Every morning for the past week (not including the weekend because that's just crazy talk) I have set my alarm for 5:45am, which is 1/2 hour earlier than I used to, and I have been actually getting out of bed and starting my workout by 6am.

Not to be all braggy, but this is a big deal for me!  I have not stuck to a workout plan for, oh I don't know, several decades so I'm kinda happy with myself for sticking to this one for a whole week.  And I am enjoying it so much that I don't see me stopping anytime soon...hopefully never.  

Before you are too impressed, I'm not talking about a high energy, aerobic sweatfest.  I'm doing a very low impact stretching and toning routine that I like to call "not-yoga".  It's similar to yoga I suppose, but without the spiritual stuff because this girl don't do that.  (Except for goat yoga.  That is actually an actual thing!  I might have to try that sometime because, baby goats!).  

I've been doing a variation of my not-yoga routine since high school, and I literally noticed the benefits on the very first day.  I have more energy and feel more relaxed all day long.  And it's more than just a workout...I made a playlist of worship songs that lasts for almost exactly 30 minutes (so I don't have to keep checking the clock) and I am using that time for praise or prayer, or both.  What I, for years didn't think I could do (make time to work out OR get up earlier than I had to) has now become the best part of my day.  I look forward to getting up and don't keep hitting the snooze (also, putting my alarm clock a little farther away helps with that little habit).  

And...I feel closer to God, and that is the absolute best.

So after my praise workout - yes!  I'm going to call it my praise workout now!!  So much better than not-yoga :)  After my praise workout I resist the urge to flop on my bed and waste time on facebook, and I put on a podcast instead.  I had been listening to Joyce Meyer's podcast for the past several months while getting ready for work, but a couple weeks ago I started listening to the Proverbs 31 podcast.  It is nothing short of life changing for me.  I'm in the middle of the "Therapy and Theology" series, which is a great follow up to the bible study I just finished on Lysa Terkeurst's book "It's Not Supposed To Be This Way".  

Also life changing.

I seriously needed that book, and this podcast, at this exact time of my life.  Both have helped me on so many levels and I know I am going to be camping on them for some time to come.  And by camping, I mean re-reading the book and things I've hi-lighted in it, going over my study notes, and listening to the podcasts over and possibly over again.  I need repetition to truly learn something.  Some people can hear things once and get it.  I tend to need to go over things two or ten times before I truly retain it and am able to apply the concepts to my life.  

And if I'm going to be totally transparent, there are multiple areas of my life right now that I could say, and some days scream...IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY!!!

1)  I'm SUPPOSED to have a house full of kids, and as I've already talked about here and here, I'm having some adjustment issues with our two babies graduating this year and the idea of an empty nest looming in our not-so-distant future.  Not only that (which is enough) but my male cherub is giving me an aneurysm with his lackadaisical attitude toward school...in this, the home stretch of his senior year.  

"I've got this, Mom", he says.  "Everything's fiiiine, Mother", he says.  

Meanwhile, I'm thinking he should be rounding third and running full bore for home plate, when in reality he is farting around somewhere near 2nd base...kicking the dirt and staring at his glove like he did in t-ball which was adorable back then.  Now, not so much.  

2)  Mr. Wonderful and I are SUPPOSED to have all the kinks worked out in our marriage, particularly in our parenting styles, but to be honest we have walked through some stuff.  Especially over the last five years. Hello counselor, my old friend....I've come to talk with you again...

3)  I'm SUPPOSED to be turning 40, not 50.  I'm not feeling 50.  It sounds old...at least older than I feel.  Maybe that's a good thing?  That I don't feel as old as I actually am?  I guess I don't mind it THAT much, I'm not hung up on age.  But it does feel weird.

4)  As we are approaching the end of our season of "raising children", I am doing a life review of sorts and there are some things that I wish we would have done.  And others I wish we would have done differently.  But one that I'm hung up on right now is that we were SUPPOSED to have taken more vacations as a family.  We wanted to, but as life moved along we never seemed to have the money or the time.  It was easier to pack up and go when the kids were pre-teens, before they had jobs and extra curriculars to keep us tied to home.  

Our kids haven't been deprived, and neither have Vince and I.  I know that.  We have all been on vacations, in various combinations of kids and parents, but we never took a real family vacation ALL together during their growing up years.  Which are now coming to an end.

Sigh.

We are however planning a real deal family vacation for this summer!  We are going to Okoboji, staying by a lake and doing lots of water fun and mini-golfing and game playing and relaxing.  And just being together.  

As I sit here typing that out, I realize that I need to just slap myself - and remember that it's not too late.  It will never be too late.  We will ALWAYS be a family and there will be countless opportunities in the years to come to make even more memories together.  I need to let go of the memories that we didn't make, remember the ones that we did, and look forward to the ones we have yet to make in the future.

And THAT's the way it's SUPPOSED to be :)

Hiding and going home

I don't want to go home.

I mean, I really like our home.  Love it, actually.  And the people in it.  I love them too.  And the dog.  Most of the time, the dog.  

But right now I'm hiding here...

Coffee shop hiding is one of my favorite things to do when I don't want to go home.  It's not that I don't want to be there per se, or be around my people.  I just sometimes need to be somewhere where I can relax without distractions.  Where I don't feel pulled toward the dishes or the vacuum or the laundry or the people.  Or the dog.  I can just be, and think my thoughts.  And drink my coffee.

Things are changing.  And I'm not always a big fan of change.

I've been trying to deny it, or avoid it, but the truth is in the next six months we might very well have an empty nest.  Our season of raising children and being a family all in the same house is coming to an end.  

There.  I said it.  

And I'm having kind of a hard time dealing with it. 

For almost half my life I have been a wife and mother.  It has defined who I am, probably too much so at times but I couldn't help it.  Being a mom has been the greatest joy of my life.  Our house has always been full of kids and toys and noise and stuff and love and messes and stresses and tears and fun.  And sarcasm.  We can't forget the sarcasm.   I'll admit, there have been times, many times, when it has been too much.  That thing about "God won't give you more than you can handle" - yea, that ain't true.  He does.  He did with me.  Six kids - six loud and opinionated and stubborn and challenging and wonderfully amazing kids, in between the joy and the hugs and the laughter have sometimes been more than I could handle. I used to yearn for quiet and would sometimes lock myself in the bathroom or flop myself on my bed just to get a moment of it.  Slowly, as each of our kids have launched, the house has gotten a little bit quieter.  Now it's the quietest it's ever been and it feels...strange.  

Vince and I have done things backwards from most couples.  We've been together almost 12 years and we've never been alone.  We started out with kids...lots of them...ranging in age from 5-17.  We've been just a tad bit busy and it's never been just us.  It's our turn now, and I'm really happy about that part of all this!  Vince and I have a lot to look forward to together and are working on our bucket list :)  But the other part of me, the mom part, is a little bit sad.  Sometimes a lot sad and I'm not sure how to feel about that.  Or what to do with those feelings that I can't really even define yet.  

Kyle and Hope, our babies, are graduating soon and making plans for their futures.  They are getting ready to launch, but truth be told I'm not ready to let them go.  I'm excited for them, I am!  But also terrified.  The past couple years have been hard, for them and for us.  Probably the hardest of all our parenting years and we have been so consumed with getting them through, that I haven't been able to really process and accept that they are actually moving on into adulthood soon.  I think that's why it is taking me by surprise.  

And taking my breath away.  

And causing me to hide in coffee shops.

But then this guy shows up...

...and makes it all better.  He reminds me that we are in this together.  And we will get through the hard days and the hard feelings and the hard things just like we have always done.  With faith and hope and love.  He makes me not want to sit here alone anymore.  

He makes me want to go home.

In the eye of the storm

Well, here I am again...

It seems this place inspires me!  I haven't written since the last time I was here, almost two months ago.  I went back and re-read the post where I talked about fear.  There have been many posts actually where I wrote about the topic of fear because as I have already explained it is something I have struggled with since I was a little girl.  But now as I sit here today I can happily say that God has brought so much healing to my life.  I'm almost afraid to type out the words in case they aren't really true, but I will do it anyway...fear no longer grips my heart and mind.  Not like it did.  Not even close.  I have a peace that I haven't known for a long time, maybe ever.  And the only reason for it is that I have chosen to believe God.

To trust Him.  

I am still learning what that means, but what it means to me today is that I do not let my thoughts run wild with worry.  I choose to believe that God is able to do what I can't and I trust Him with it.

For instance, there is the teeny tiny little baby issue of my son being in the path of the WORST HURRICANE IN THE HISTORY OF FOREVER.  Right now as I am typing this, he is being shipped off along with the rest of his unit to a bunker in the mountains as they prepare to ride out the storm.  Yes, I know he will be safe.  The army is prepared for this and will take care of their people.  But my mama mind envisions my baby clinging to a tree all alone being assaulted with wind and waves and big hard objects flying at him at 200 miles an hour.  Yes, I know he's a strong army man, but...

Honestly tho, after going through some mild panic after talking to him earlier in the week, I'm not overcome with fear.  I am surprisingly calm.

Peace that passes understanding is REAL people!

Because this is not something I would or should have peace about.  This would normally send me over an edge or two.  But I have realized (with help from Joyce Meyer) that I need to do what I can do, and trust God to do what I can't do.  I wrote that down on a post-it and put it by my computer at work.  I should put it on a post-it like everywhere I go.  Just attach it to my glasses so it's right in front of my face all the time.  It really helps.  This is a hurricane. My son is 1,981 miles away and in the direct path of the storm. There is absolutely nothing I can do to change that or protect him.

So, I will focus on what I CAN do...I can call and text him, at least for now.  I can encourage him and send him scripture like these:

And I can pray.

  

There is more power in that than anything. 

I am praying for his protection, of course, and for the protection of all the people in this storm's path. How terrifying it must be for those who are faced with losing their homes, and possibly their lives.  I think of Haiti and the Dominican Republic, where people are already struggling and poor. More than anything tho, I am praying for people to turn to Jesus.  To cry out to Him...those who have been putting faith in God off, thinking "some other day" they will consider it. Those who have been keeping their faith in their back pocket because things are going well for them. Those who have never opened their hearts to the Savior.  I pray that this crisis brings people to Him and changes their lives for the better.  God will do whatever it takes to reach His people.  He can calm the storm with a word, but He doesn't always.  And sometimes that is the greatest blessing. 

When fear grips you

When I was a little girl, there were many things that scared me.  A lot of them weren't real, but some of them were.  Both had a grip on my mind and the more I fed them, the bigger they got.

I'm not really sure how far I've come in this area.

One would think that by now I would have conquered my fears and that my heart would be solidly planted in faith and trust in the LORD.  I can say that most of my childhood fears, I have healed from.   But there are some that remain, and have even grown immensely...especially now that I am the parent of teenagers and young adults.  I thought once my kids got to be these ages, the worries and fears for them would lessen.  Sure, teens have issues, but OUR kids would be so loved and grounded and raised in faith that they would soar above all the sticky, messy things that their peers would experience.

The white picket fence that my mind has always framed around my dreams for our children has some mending to be done.  Or actually, maybe I just need to tear that fence down.  It's not reality.  Not for our children, and not for most I suppose.

Life is messy.

Life is complicated.

Life is painful, sometimes brutally so.

And strongholds are strong.  So very strong.  My stronghold of fear has thick roots that go deep, gripping my soul so tightly that it suffocates me at times and I literally feel like I can't breathe.

I have been walking in a state of fear for weeks, months even, because of things our kids have been going through.  Each, their own individual struggles, none of which are that unusual for their stages in life, but nonetheless they are difficult and my mama heart can't take it sometimes to see them struggle so.  I want so desperately to fix it...not to swoop in and make it all better (well, yea, sometimes that), but more importantly I want them to go to the One who can make sense of their situations and their lives, provide guidance and direction and a life of joy, even amidst heartache.  I want them to go to the One who forgives, redeems, restores, and makes all things new.

And I want them to go there NOW!  GO DIRECTLY THERE NOW!  DO NOT PASS GO!  DO NOT COLLECT $200!

But...

As I so often have done in my life, we tend to take detours.  We think our own way is better, or we just don't think about it that much at all.  We just take the road that, to us, looks faster and smoother but in reality is filled with potholes and road kill and much rougher terrain than the one God would lead us on.  And it often doesn't get us where we truly want to be...which is where God wants to bring us...the place where he provides healing and restoration, renewal and hope.  

We often don't follow that path because we don't always believe that it leads to those wonderful places.    The path He wants to take us down doesn't look easy, and in reality it's not.  Sometimes it is harder.  It's harder to forgive than to stay angry.  It's harder to let go of the wheel and give up control. It's harder to give up something or someone in our life that we desperately want, than to give into our emotions for temporary happiness.  It's harder to allow God to dig deep and pull things out at the roots than it is to just mow off the surface and continue on.  We can't see the end of the road, so we don't trust the Guide.

How come everything always leads back to this one thing...?

Trust.  

Maybe because the opposite of fear is trust.  And trust is something God is consistently and deliberately and intently working on teaching me to do.  He is relentless.  All the tests I've failed when it comes to trusting Him, and he still doesn't give up on me.  

I don't know why that should surprise me.  I will never, ever give up on our kids.  No matter how many struggles they go through, how many detours they take, or how far they sometimes push us away, I will be relentless at pursuing them and doing my best to point them to our Savior.  

And God loves them more, even more than their fathers and I do, and He will never, ever give up on them.  Just that thought makes me take a deep, cleansing breath as I am reminded that He truly is in control.  He can see down the paths we are on, knows all the obstacles, detours and dangers ahead, and even when we don't follow Him, He never leaves us.  

Learning to trust.  I think I've just taken another step.
  

L

A year in the life...

Birthday boy!  Happy Birthday Kyle!!  It's the big 1-6 for this guy.  We got him more than just his favorite granola bars, but this is what he chose to pose with :)

Vince made him this awesome cake, and also grilled steak.  That's it, just steak.   

That's all the boy wanted.

So here is a stroll (backwards) through the life of Kyle T over the past year, as seen and recorded by my phone...

I can't explain why I couldn't capture a normal face in any of these pictures.  But because he loves despises (feels contempt and a deep repugnance for) having his picture taken, I couldn't ask him to look up or he would have turned around.  So, I just sat in the car and watched him.  It was one of those unplanned moments in the heart of a mom when you just look at your kid in awe, seeing him become a man, and wonder where the years went.

Kyle's baptism!  

These guys and Pastor Brian from Pleasant Valley Church 

have become some of his closest friends.  

So proud of you, son, for your commitment to Christ!

Grandpa Leroy and Grandma Kathy look pretty proud too.

Uncle Kyle is pretty cool!

My baby holding our newest grandbaby...sigh.  It's so cute my heart hurts.

Sophomores...what???

After 10 years of spending every summer of his life at the baseball field by our house, last summer was his last year with Rollingstone Rox.

And just because I need to....

The end.

Stirring the embers

I'm not exactly sure what a "mid life crisis" looks like for a woman, but I am wondering if that is what I've been going through the past couple years.  I think it started with Nick and Vinny graduating, and Nicolas subsequently moving out.  I don't think I was ready for that emotionally.  And here we are two years later and Hope and Kyle will be graduating two exact years from now.  Already.  It's right around the corner and so is, potentially, an empty nest.

Really?

I don't feel old enough for that.  And I'm not sure what our life will look like then.  Or feel like.  So much of my identity for the past 22 years has been as a wife and a mom.  It's what I looked forward to as a little girl, and where I have focused my attention ever since my first walk down the aisle at 25.   I know I will still be a wife and a mom, and a grammie too :). But it's not the same when they leave the house.  They don't need me as much and while I know that is the goal...to teach our kids to be independent and launch out into the world on their own...it hurts a bit.  A lotta bit.  There is an emptiness that makes me pause and say...now what?

I wonder if this is what my mom went through after I left home.  There was a distinct change in her that I can see now.  Looking back, I think she was extremely lonely.  She wasn't dating anymore, her mother had died, she had a love/hate relationship with her sister Arlene, and all of us kids were out on our own living our own lives.  I realize that is when she started shopping and buying and crowding her small apartment with so many "things".  There was always "one more thing" she needed and then she would be "done".  But she was never done, she kept accumulating things and filling up her apartment.  She began leaving her safe little cluttered home less and less and her world got smaller and smaller.  I can see it now, but I didn't understand it then.

There are some ways I know I am like my mother, but this is not one of them.  I am in "purge" mode. I want to declutter and simplify.  I also don't want to let my world get small.  There are things that I used to love to do that I have let fade out of my life....playing my piano, taking pictures, going for walks and enjoying nature, being involved in women's ministry, and being on the worship team.  And connecting with friends. Part of it has been a time issue.  The kids are much more involved in things now than ever - their social lives have exploded to include boyfriends and girlfriends, jobs, and a plethora of school/sports/theater/church activities that all demand rides to and fro on almost a daily basis.  Often multiple times a day.  I'm not complaining (sometimes maybe a little) but I am happy to do the rides for a little while longer because I know once they get their licenses and own cars they will be gone more than they are home.  I will miss our car time, where we have some of our best talks and laughs.

I think I have figured out what has been going on.  About 5 years ago things began to change...slowly at first but after a couple years it really picked up speed and knocked me off my feet.  I haven't fully recovered.  But I am beginning to see - by the grace of God, no doubt, because I have been praying for God to open my eyes to why I have lost sight of so many of these things that I have been passionate about.  It was a slow fade.  A slow chipping away at these thing. Believing the daily little lies from the enemy of our souls that I don't have the time, don't have the energy, don't have the talent, don't have the faith to pour myself into any of my passions anymore.  Satan is very patient.  This didn't happen overnight.  Like I said, it was a slow fade.  That is how he works.  If he can't take something away immediately, as can happen with a sudden tragedy when he tells us that God has failed us and we throw down our faith and walk away...he will be patient and slowly chip away at it until there is very little left for us to hold onto.  Or we simply forget about it.

And then we wake up a few years later and realize it and wonder what happened to our passion?  My passion.  I have asked God to renew and restore it.  And that is what he is doing.  I see it now.  And I will not beat myself up over it.  I will just do what I have always done...come back to God, give it to Him, and ask Him to direct my path everyday.  Ask him to restore what I have lost and make beauty from ashes.  I can feel Him stirring the embers.

Some things and why I am up blogging at 4:30am

So my new planner came in January like I said it would!!  I LOVE IT!!  It's so colorful!

...and useful!

 

and well...

I'm not using it anymore.

*Sigh*

I know, I feel like a loser about it too.  But the reason is that it weighs like 8 pounds and I wasn't expecting that when I ordered it.   Isn't it just ADORABLE, tho?!  I love everything about it because I got to design it myself and pick the cover and the pages and layout and it cost like 50 bucks, so I really REALLY tried to deal with it. I lugged it around for several weeks and tried to pretend that I was ok with the weight of it, but eventually it just got the best of me.

Ok, so it's not quite 8 lbs, but it is almost 2 lbs and that is just too much when I'm already carrying around my Chromebook, purse, lunch bag, coffee mug, water bottle, iPad and various notebooks/journals every single day wherever I go.  Something needed to go.  So I got a new, less bulky wallet and purse, and decided to leave my ginormous planner at home.  I've been using the digital calendar on my iPad instead and although I have loudly sung the praises of a paper planner, I have to say I am liking the digital calendar a bit. No, it's not paper, I will just have to get my writing and doodling outlet via another venue.  I have come to appreciate it , especially for things that repeat and I don't have to keep writing them over and over like youth group, baseball practices, voice lessons, Wednesday night mom's group...oh, and birthdays! Another thing is being able to add cute little emoji's :)  They make me happy.

Looking back on my first blog entry for this year, I realize I am making some progress on the things I wanted to focus on.  I have started attending a mom's group at our church, which I haven't done for some time.  Not consistently anyway.  We are going to a new church now, which was a difficult transition especially for me.  I am very loyal and look at church as a family.   Vince and I started feeling the tug to leave our old church a couple years ago.  I denied it for a long time because that was the church I had been part of for 16 years and YOU JUST DON'T LEAVE FAMILY!!  I raised my babies there, saw them both saved and baptized there. I made some very close friendships over the years.  It was the church where Mr. W and I were married. I learned to play piano and served on the worship team for 8 years.  I went to countless bible studies, led some women's ministry groups, had many talks and laughs and shed many tears inside those walls.  I laid things on the altar, and buried my mom, and we saw people come and go.  I didn't want to be a "leaver".  I wanted to stay, but our kids had started going to the youth group at our new church a couple years prior and they were really growing and thriving.  For a while we tried taking them to youth group on Wednesdays at the new church and attending Sunday services at the old, but after many discussions Vince and I decided last fall that having one foot in each church was leaving us not fully engaged in either.  So we made the leap.  It was hard, but it has been a blessing. Both churches are wonderful, but this is where we need to be now and we finally have a peace about it.

As far as the other goals I set at the beginning of this year, I have begun to sit at my piano again, which feels amazing.  My Canon 40D has been dusted off and resurrected and I've decided shall now be referred to as "Big Mama" 'cause, think about it.  And now here I am...writing.  I started this blog post last night when my view was this:

And now it's 4:30am and I am on my couch in my robe wide awake.  Not really doing a good job of trusting and surrendering and believing for good things.  I'm stressed.  Top on my list of things I'm stressed about: my firstborn is officially deployed.  Out of the country.  And I can't contact him.  At least not right now.  I have no idea how he is feeling, what he is doing, how he is being treated. Is he scared or homesick or in danger? Would he tell me if he was any of those things even if I could talk to him?  No, but still.  A mom knows when we hear their voice.  No matter how much they try to hide it, we know.

My mom did.  In the last moments I had with her when she could still communicate, she told me it was ok to cry.  I told her I know, and I had been crying but I was hiding it.  I'll never forget when she looked up at me from her hospital bed and said "you can't hide it from your mother".  She was right.  As much as I have said that my mom didn't understand me, she could always tell when I was sad.  And she always wanted to help. Even though her helping didn't help sometimes, deep down I knew that she cared, and that she hurt when I hurt.

But now my mom isn't here.  I can't call her, but honestly I wouldn't if I could because she would be even more worried than me.  She never knew that Nicolas was being deployed.  He found out right around the time she was in the hospital and I told him not to tell her.  She didn't need to be worried with it.  I'm not sure what we know about earthly things when we are in Heaven, but if she does know where he is, I have no doubt she is praying for him and it gives me comfort to know her prayers don't have far to travel to the throne.