Legacy

Leaving a legacy....  Most of us want to live a life of purpose and meaning.  We want to leave a meaningful legacy to the next generation.  I often think about what I want to leave to my children: a faith lived out with passion, pearls of wisdom, memories of dinners hardly eaten because we were laughing so hard, compassion, well worn bibles with lots of notes, a willingness to try new things, a sense of adventure.  It seems, at first, that in order to leave a meaningful legacy, you need a long life.  Yet, I know that's not true.  My sister taught me about trusting God and the sactity of life...in just nine days.

In the month before my sixteenth birthday, my mom gave birth to my first sibling, my sister.  We had anticipated her arrival for months.  She was the first grandchild for my step-dad's family and was the sibling I had been asking for for years.   When my mom went into labor, we loaded up to go to the hospital filled with joy and an eagerness to finally meet her face to face.  Soon after we arrived, I knew something was terribly wrong.  My mom had an emergency C-section and our fears were realized.  My sister had aspirated meconium and her lungs were badly damaged.  She died nine days later.  We were devastated. 

Yet, I am reminded of her life every time I think about my kids.   When we first learned I was pregnant with quadruplets, the doctors immediately (I was still on the ultrasound bed) started telling me to reduce the number of babies.  They said that I would never be able to carry all four of them and that if I didn't reduce the number, I would lose them all.  I thought about my sister.  All the times I got to hear her heartbeat during the pregnancy.  The joy of preparing for her arrival.  The thrill of seeing her face and who she resembled.  The mixture of awe and sorrow as we held her for the first and last time.  Remembering her, I knew I could not make the decision as to which of my children would live and which would be terminated.  So my husband and I decided to trust God.  There were several times during my pregnancy and the weeks after their birth that we thought one or more of them might not make it.  Yet, I remembered how God walked with me after my sister's death and He was with me still. 

I learned a lot in the nine days my sister was alive.   Life is precious, but not guaranteed.  God can be trusted.  He may not spare me from pain, but He is faithful to walk with me through the pain. So now as I look at my children, I see the wonderful legacy my sister left.  And it makes me smile!

Known

I long to be known....   My husband and I began attending our 'old' church soon after we moved into our first house.  We worshipped there for about fifteen years.  Then we moved.  Then we moved again.  And now that we are only 90 miles away instead of states away, we enjoy attending from time to time.  It's like going home.  This Sunday we went.  I was enjoying worship and all was going well until we went up for communion.  That's when it happened......he said my name.  The man distributing the wine, who I have known for years, said my name.  I could barely hold it together until I got to the pew.  That's when I began to cry.

Since moving to our current location two years ago, I have not found my place.  I have met some wonderful women who are kind and loving.  Women with whom I have done bible study and gone to lunch.  Yet, I have not met anyone that I see on a regular basis who really knows me.  Part of that is due to having a full life with teenagers.  Part of it is that I grew up as an only child (my siblings are 17 and 20 years younger than me) so I am used to doing things by myself.  Part of it is that I just don't feel like I belong.  I still feel like an outsider so I don't fully engage.  Maybe I do that because I know we won't be here all that long so I don't want to get too close.  I'm not sure.  But I do know that I long to find my place and be known.  And I haven't yet.

So that is why I cried at church.  My old church is a place where I am known and loved.  It is where people know my story and I know theirs.  It is where we prayed together, encouraged each other, pushed each other, and did life together.  We celebrated and mourned together.  It is there that I was allowed to try new things knowing that if I failed, it would be okay.  I am known there.  My husband is known.  My children are known.  And we are loved.  I miss being known.....


    

Heart Connections

This past weekend I experienced heart connections. I spoke at a woman's retreat in Phoenix, Arizona. A retreat organized by women who had never gone to one before, but brave enough to plan one. It was wonderful! I came home with a heart full of love for a group of women who showed me how we come alive when when we connect beyond the surface. Many of these women came hungry for time with their sisters in Christ where they could laugh and share their stories. We laughed and squealed as we heard stories of adventure and joy. We also shed tears as we shared stories of loss, discouragement, and loneliness. We all walked away knowing each other more intimately than before. We made heart connections. The result of which brought about great compassion and a call to action for these women. You see, part of the retreat's purpose was to explore the needs of the women in order to create new ministry opportunities. As the information gathering began, instead of women voicing what they wanted, they began sharing what they could offer to each other! Women heard the needs of other women through their stories and began thinking of ways to meet those needs. It was beautiful to watch. Women caring for each other; wanting to share the burdens of life. This is how it was meant to be! We are to make heart connections and care for one another. We are meant to walk this road together, loving and encouraging each other. Beautiful! I can't wait to see what God has planned!

Dinner

What is the cure for post vacation blues?  Family dinners at my house. It's my favorite time of day.  I don't necessarily enjoy making dinner, but I love our time together at the table.  It is our time to connect and tell each other about our day.  Most of the time is spent telling stories and laughing.  Tonight was particularly funny.  I was sure that noodles would come flying out of noses and mouths.  Thankfully, they did not make an appearance.  But the laughter gave health to my spirit.

As you know, my daughter and I went to New York City.  It was wonderful.  We had a great time together.  We walked all over the city and saw a lot of wonderful things.  We spent a lot of time watching people.  (An activity we both enjoy.)  And we talked about life...things happening now and our hopes and dreams for the future.  We did not want it to end.  But home was calling us back. 

The transition from vacation to normal life can be difficult, though.  It is good to be reunited with family, but the chores of life are not as exciting as Time Square in the evenings.  Add to that the dreary weather we have had, and you get post vacation blues.  Which is why dinner was so wonderful tonight.   I was reminded that my life may not be filled with bright lights and endless entertainment, but it is definitely full of laughter and a great deal of love.  I'm glad to be home.

Moving

Moving is hard.  I was reminded of the 'special' stress involved with moving recently.  We have some good friends who are moving in a few weeks.  There have been some stressful days filled with a sick pet, carpet cleaners, new garage door installation, packing and storing items, stagers, and the like.  All of this while maintaining a job, hunting for a new house, and keeping kids entertained while on summer break.  Oh, and then there is the mental and emotional stress of good bye parties and last get- togethers.  Despite the stressful circumstances, they are doing well.  They are trying to maintain a sense of humor and are relying heavily on God.

As my friend goes through this process, I can't help but think about my moving experiences.  My kids and I had many adventures getting the house ready for a showing and then trying to find something to do for a couple of hours with our eighty pound dog.  Sometimes we would go to a park, but there were many times when we would get in our van and drive around.  It was during one of those times that I had to pull off the road because my kids had me laughing so hard about our situation.  That is when I began saying, "this is what my life has become....driving around with a dog who hates cars, hoping that someone will buy the house we don't want to leave."  We couldn't help but laugh.  We still laugh about it. 

It has been almost two years since our last move.  I still can remember the stress, the tears, the heart ache, the grief.  But mostly, I remember God's goodness and faithfulness.  I have seen how our moves have stretched each of us and how God has used that to mold us into the people He wants us to become.  So as my friend prepares to leave, I am sad that we won't see each other as often, but I am also excited to see what God has planned for her and her family.  Let the adventure begin!

16th Birthday

Today is my oldest daughter's 16th birthday.  She made her appearance three weeks early.  My husband and I were supposed to be at a Fourth of July party.  Instead, we were at the hospital.  I remember thinking, 'I'm not ready'.  I have since learned that you are never really ready to be a parent.  It is challenging.  But, oh so worth it. 

To celebrate, she and I are going to New York City.  It is a trip that she proposed.  (She created a power point presentation for my husband and I.)  She has planned the itinerary and mapped out our days.  She has helped to finance part of it through babysitting, pet sitting, and chores.  Needless to say, I am very proud of her.  She had a dream.  She told us about her dream.  And she began planning for her dream.  She had to face dream killers.  She faced fear and doubt.  Yet, she continued pursuing her dream.  Now, we are going to her dream destination to see her dream Broadway production.  I am in awe of her determination and hard work.  When I look at her, I can't help but think of the incredible work God has done, both in my life as a mom and hers as she grows up.  He is so good.

So as we watch the fireworks live in New York City, I will be overflowing with joy because I have been given the honor and privilege of having such a precious daughter.  She is truly a gift.

Assumptions

My son loves watching American Ninja Warrior.  It is a show where athletes compete to finish a very difficult obstacle course testing their strength, agility, balance, and stamina.   He has watched every episode several times.  He can tell you all about the competitors.  He can tell you the times of those in the lead.  And he is eagerly awaiting the finals to see who will win.  I have to admit that I, too, have become a fan as I watch with him.  I am in awe of these athletes.  I know that the things they are doing are difficult, yet many of them seem to do the tasks with such ease.  Watching them makes me think I can do what they do. 

Intermixed in the competition, the athletes are interviewed.  I enjoy learning about each athlete and the training they endured in order to compete.  All of them have trained for many months.  Some of them have faced physical injuries and surgeries that threatened to end their chances.  Some of them have created parts of the obstacle course in or around their homes in order to train whenever they had free time.  All of them have made some sacrifices.  All of them have had times when they had to push through the pain to continue.  I am so glad for the back stories.  Not only because they are interesting, but they are essential.  You see, without them, it would be easy to watch these athletes and think that they are just naturally gifted and that no real effort was needed for them to succeed.  But that's not true.  

I wish we could get the back stories of people who are doing what we dream of doing.  Without them, we begin to make assumptions.  We assume they are natually gifted or that the task is easy for them.  We assume they have resources or a support system that is unavailable to us.  We assume they didn't really have to make sacrifices or push through rough times.  All our assuming can feed our excuses and make it easy to give up on our dreams.  But the back stories tell us the truth.  It takes work and sacrifice to fulfill our dreams.  It takes dedication and focus.  It takes strength and perseverance when we want to give up.  Pursuing a dream is hard work physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.  But as I watch the athletes complete the course and raise their hands in victory, I am reminded that the effort is worth the reward!  Press on!