Dad’s Quartet

This past weekend the weather was beautiful, but it had been a sort of sad week.  My husband lost a close family friend to cancer.   Ironically enough, funeral homes always make me think about life.  So as I sat there watching people come and go paying respects to the life of this great man I got all introspective.

The following day the combination of the nice weather and that introspection led me to make a random visit to my dad’s house.   When people find out I belong to my dad they always tell me what a great guy he is.  He’s a hard worker, loyal to a fault and has a great sense of humor.  Unfortunately, we’ve never been particularly close, and after my mom died, instead of getting closer, we actually drifted further apart.  I’ll admit that I am bothered by that and place the blame for it on him most of the time, but deep down I know that I’m equally guilty.  I haven’t really tried that hard either.

When I got to his house he and my step-mom were  in the backyard.  We had a great little casual conversation in the sunshine.  But what began as just a casual conversation became a huge revelation for me.  I mentioned the death of the family friend to him and it turns out Dad knew him also.  This man had been a year or two ahead of Dad in school.  Dad proceeded to tell me this story:

When Dad was a sophomore, he was selected to be in an elite men’s quartet in the high school choir.  Apparently this was quite an accomplishment for a sophomore.  The man who just passed away was in it as well.  Dad told me that he loved being in that quartet.  He said he had an absolute blast with it.  When he became a Junior he had enough credits to start leaving school at noon if he wished, so he chose to do that so he could get a full time job.  This allowed him to earn enough money to buy a new car, but it forced him to give up elective classes and he had to say good-bye to the quartet.  His next statement was the one that really floored me.  “If I had it to do over again, I never would have done that.”

I’m 38 years old and my dad is 70.  Until he told me this story, I didn’t even know he could sing.  I loved high school choir too and I excelled in it.  He used to dread going to our concerts and grumbled every time.  I was always hurt by that, but now I wonder if maybe what he was really dreading was the regret he knew it would make him feel.

The whole thing made me sad on many levels.  I was thinking about it on the drive home and big tears came to my eyes.  I am so sad for him that he gave up something he loved for a car.  I’m sad that he regretted it so much that he quit singing altogether.  I’m sad that it took me 38 years to find out my love of music may have come from him instead of my mom.  I’m sad that it’s taken him 70 years to begin sharing his heart with people.  And I hurt for the years I’ve missed.

But crying over something doesn’t change it.  So instead I’ll embrace the fact that I might finally get to know this great guy that everyone always tells me about.

My niece is in high school choir now and she’s great at it.  This Sunday I get to go watch her perform in the spring musical.  And I get to sit with my dad.

 

Beginning

A new little person entered the world this morning.  Sammi Jean arrived via c-section a few weeks before scheduled.  She was tiny and stunned and perfect.  She belongs to proud parents Matt & Sandy – my brother-in-law & sis-in-law.  Her early arrival threw a kink in their plans – but that is after all lesson number one in parenting:  Things will rarely go according to plans.

I love watching new borns, but I’m always reminded of how merciful it is of God to block the memories of our first few days on earth.  The things we have to go through to get here.  And then after we arrive – we’re poked and prodded and rubbed and smeared with ink and we have to wear silly looking hats and people stand around looking at us naked.  But if we’re really lucky, those are the same people  who will also cheer us on as we take our first steps, say our first words, chew our first solid food and graduate from high school (not necessarily in that order).  Little Sammi had a support group of grandparents, aunts, uncles & cousins – not to mention surrogate family members related by the friend gene.  There were hundreds of prayers being sent up as she prepared to make her first appearance, and even more after she arrived in her “medium well done”  little body.  Sammi is welcomed by parents who now realize they have more love to give than they ever imagined existed & extended family eager to begin the spoiling process.  She is truly blessed and a living breathing gift from God.

I can’t help but think  though, of all the other tiny souls that met flesh today that weren’t given such a welcome.  I know that it’s one of the mysteries of God that some are born with much – and other’s are born with little, but I still try to make sense of it.   I think maybe part of the answer is in the flesh/soul part.  We all are loved beyond measure the moment our souls are created.  Our flesh lasts only a short time – and for whatever reason some of us get to experience fleshly love too.  But ultimately we all have access to the soul love – the kind that matters most.  Someone reminded me the other day of the line “To whom much is given, much is expected.”  Maybe that’s the big lesson here.  Those of us who are blessed enough to get the fleshly love need to try harder to spread it around to the ones who aren’t – so that they can more fully understand the soul love too.

So welcome to the world Sammi.  Rest assured that you have entered into a virtual love-fest complete with striped walls and little hand-stamped ants around your window frame.  You are one of the lucky ones – and from you much will be expected.  Love back.  Love your mommy & daddy.  Love your friends.  Love people who are mean to you.  Love people who don’t look like you or talk like you.  Love them with your smiles, your words and your actions.  And love Jesus.  He loves you so very much.  And many, many years from now when you feel like all the other love is a memory – His will remain.  May you always know that truth.

 

A Good Day

I promised that once the dark cloud of 2008 had passed I would write some happy entries – and I have one!

The cloud has lifted.  It’s kind of scary how almost instantly it happened.  I don’t know if it was the intentional “Bite me!” that I screamed at the past year or what – but 2009 has begun much brighter and lighter.

Today is Monday – a day normally reserved for grumbling and dread & longing for the weekend past.  But this one was really good.  It might have something to do with the fact that I prayed this morning.  (Ok – I’m sure it does…) School was on time for the first time in 6 months or so which allowed me to get to work a few minutes early and get a jump on my day.  I organized & caught up & learned more things.  I like my job.  I actually do.  I told John last night that I’m beginning to think that God knew what He was doing last year when He allowed the clouds.  Go figure. I had a good conversation with two of my closest friends.   The snow is gone, the temperature is spring-like and my house is clean and laundry is caught up.  What could be better? Ethan has no homework.  We have no commitments tonight.  Dinner is planned & taxes are filed.  Ahhh…sweet freedom.

So I’m going for a walk, cooking dinner & enjoying time with my family tonight.   This walking freely & lightly stuff  (Matthew 11) is all right…

 

Rhythm

There is so much talk these days from people who say things like “God spoke to me.”  I’ve always been a bit skeptical & envious at the same time when I hear that.  Do they really hear His audible voice?  Because I don’t.  It’s only lately that I’ve begun to understand how He speaks to me.

I was in bed the other night trying my best to go to sleep.  All the events of the day & the looming events of the next were swirling around in my head.  Our almost full grown blond lab Stella was zonked out next to me.  Our huge black lab Kate was on the floor beside the bed & John was in the bed too of course.  All were sleeping.  Stella’s nose was right next to my cheek.  She was sleeping really well & her breathing was slow & steady.  I focused on that.  And then I heard Kate snoring.  Slow and steady and loud.  And then there was the freezing rain on the roof & window, which seemed to meld perfectly in double time with the breathing & the snoring.  I found myself lost in a symphony of living breathing rhythm.  Which got me thinking…

All of life is based on rhythm and has been since the beginning of time.  Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring…thunder, then wait, and lightning…a waterfall flowing over rocks…water dripping from a faucet…birth then death.  I’ve started to notice it all around me.  Basketballs being dribbled, keyboards being pecked, cars on the highway…all rhythmic.  Which brings me right back to the same verse that’s been dogging me for well over a year now…

“Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it.  Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.  I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.  Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  Matthew 11:29-30 MSG

I don’t think that it’s that God hasn’t been talking to me.  I think it’s that I’ve been too busy to listen.  He speaks constantly doesn’t He?  We choose what we want to hear.  He gave me this verse at a time when I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and didn’t think I could carry it any more.  The thought of living freely & lightly seemed illusive, impossible and down right wrong.  So I disregarded it as simply a nice pretty picture of hope.  But it keeps popping up – over & over again.  And I’ve begun to listen.  I’ve slowed down & left the weight of the world up to the One who IS able to handle it and it’s in that stillness that I’ve finally begun to “hear” Him all around me.  It’s as if it’s unforced.  Hmmm…that’s sort of what that verse says isn’t it???

I feel like I’m getting to know this whole new side of God that I always wanted to be there, but that was hidden from my view.  It’s pretty cool keeping company with Him.

 

The Hole in the Roof

I heard a great message this morning from one of my favorite speakers (and one of my favorite elves).   He spoke of the story of Jesus healing the paralyzed man.  You know the guy – the one who was lowered through a hole in a roof by his friends.  The story took on new meaning this morning as he pointed toward the role of the friends.  They did whatever it took to get their friend to Jesus.

I’ve struggled a lot with this over the past few months – this idea of “bringing people to Jesus”.  I guess I’ve seen it done badly one too many times or something and it tainted the whole concept for me.  I’m not big on manipulation or agenda and that’s what it’s always felt like to me.  When I put myself in the other guy’s shoes, I think I’d be very confused, hurt and even ticked off by it.  Not necessarily the feelings that tend to lead people to the altar in droves.  But, in my attempt to distance myself from the not so good approaches, I think I’ve wandered aimlessly into taking no approach.  Given the Bible that I read and the Jesus I’ve come to know, I’m pretty sure this isn’t ok.

I really want to know the right way.  I think it involves a lot of time, a lot of trust and probably a willingness to maybe not see the final outcome.  That’s hard for a control freak like myself.  But as I re-read the stories of Jesus, He wasn’t pushy.  He told it like it was.  He loved and served the unloveable and the un-served.  He had dinner with people that didn’t go to church.  He just experienced life with people as His true self.  He didn’t have to push or manipulate anyone into following Him.  Those who did did so because they realized who He was and they WANTED to.

The friends in the story got their friend to Jesus because he wanted them to.  He already knew who Jesus was and the freedom that He offered.  There was no need for a sales pitch.

Is our role really to bring people to Jesus, or is it to bring Jesus to them?  If we do that effectively, is there even a need for the rest?  Won’t they at the very least start wanting to know Him?  So shouldn’t we be loving the unloveable and serving the un-served and rubbing shoulders with people just like He did?  Part of what made Jesus so revolutionary was His willingness to do the unexpected and shake things up a bit.  Gosh.  When was the last time I did that?

I love the challenge that Jesus has set before us and I love even more that He trusts us with it.  He knew that we would be representing Him.  I have failed miserably so many times, it’s beyond me why He keeps letting me try.  But He does.  So here I go…

 

Starting Over

I don’t normally take the time to read email forwards.  Someone sent me one last week though that I actually slowed down and read.  It was a devotion about starting the year out on a good note.  It had five or six main points to it, but the general idea was that if we want it to be a good year, then we need to make it one.  Good point – and point taken.

I had actually decided to do that even before I got the email.  After writing my last post a week ago today I felt strangely vindicated.   There is something about putting your innermost thoughts out there for all the world to see that is at the same time both freeing & really, really scary.  It was a good thing though.   I decided the next day would be different.

I went to work and was fully present for probably the first time since I started working there in July.  Pitiful – I know.  But it was funny…I realized that I actually kind of liked it.

I made the painful decision to finally quit serving in an area that has been powering the roller coaster ride that is my life – and took the first steps in that direction.

I began reading the Jesus books again, starting with Matthew – the obvious choice.  Immediately I saw something I’d never seen before.  That stuff you hear about God’s Word being living & active???  All true.

I prayed for people I don’t like very much, and guess what?  They aren’t so bad now…

I called two of my closest friends and asked them to join me in starting a small group.  We’ll be meeting tomorrow night for the first time.

I sat through two services at church this morning and didn’t feel the urge to cry even once.  In fact – I found myself smiling while I sang the lyric “hope that was lost now stands renewed.”

By no means have I figured out all of life’s mysteries.   But for over a year now I’ve been walking around in what seemed like a dark tunnel, with no light in sight.  On several occasions I was outside on gorgeous sunny days and still felt as though I was surrounded by clouds.  This week I can see a light.  It’s still tiny & I’m squinting and all, but I see it!  If you read my post last week & prayed for me – thank you.  If you read it and thought I was a whiny, emotional freak – I don’t care.  For whatever reason, something shifted.  I’m moving forward.  I’m starting over.  And that’s ok.

 

Out with the old…

I’ve always been annoyed by negative people.  I try to look at the glass as being half full.  But if I’ve learned anything at all in the past year it’s this:  I really shouldn’t be so quick to judge others, because sooner or later I’ll be where they are myself.

So with that preface I’ll try to put 2008 to rest – not so much for the benefit of you the reader, but rather for mine.  This post is for me.

In 2008 I quit.  I quit a lot of things.  Most notable was my job of seven years.  A job in which I had wrapped up most of my identity, so with the loss of it began the crisis of that identity.  I quit listening to what others thought so much and I quit trying to follow rules that had never really made sense to me in the first place.   I quit caring as much and I quit feeling very much, because to do either was just too hard.  And in the latter part of ‘08 I even quit writing because I was convinced that I had nothing of any substance to record.

The lessons of the past year were difficult at best.  I learned how deeply important my friendships are to me.  And, sadly, I learned who my real friends really are.  Our parents always tell us that is one of the toughest life lessons to learn, and they are right.  But along with the sorrow of finding out who they aren’t comes the true appreciation for those who are.  I’m still learning this lesson, and my fear of the outcome is a big part of what keeps me from forging on in the way I probably should.

I learned that there needs to be a balance between serving others and taking care of yourself.  Doing either to the neglect of the other is unhealthy.  This is a tough, tough thing for me to accept and one of the reasons I continue to struggle.  I want that balance to be right – not tilted too much in either direction.  I’m not there yet.

I learned that sometimes it’s necessary to cry.  I’ve done it a lot lately.  Uncontrollably.  I don’t like it.  I don’t want people seeing me do it.  It catches me off guard every time.  But it cleanses the soul somehow, and Lord knows mine needs some cleansing.

I’m pretty sure my mid-life crisis began in 2008.  So much of the 38 years leading up to it that I had stuffed down into a safe place came roaring to the surface:  my guarded childhood, my mom’s death, the lack of relationship with my dad, my concept of religion, my relationship with Christ, my need to feel needed, my deep desire to make a difference, my inadequacies as a wife and mother, my lack of love for myself…and that’s kind of a lot all in one year.  At times it has seemed like more than I can bear, and I’m literally praying that 2009 will bring some much needed answers and clarity and peace.

I’m a little behind on my movie watching.  I saw Bucket List for the first time the other night.  There’s a line in it where Morgan Freeman says to Jack Nicholson something like this “The Egyptians believe that when we die and go to Heaven that we will be asked two things:  Did you experience joy in your life?  and Did you help someone else experience joy in their life?”  That line has stuck with me.  I want to do both.  I think it’s at the core of our purpose on this earth.  My Sunday School upbringing & Scripture itself tell me that the joy of the Lord is my strength – which makes it even harder to admit that I don’t feel much right now.  And without having it myself, I doubt I’m spreading much around.

I have not lost my sense of gratitude for what I do have.  My family, my friends, my home, a job.  I’m grateful for all of that.  I’m also extremely grateful for a Savior who lived a life on earth himself and died so that I wouldn’t have to feel this way.

I don’t have any resolutions for 2009.  I have no idea what it will bring.  I’m determined to work through this current season with God’s help and I’m convinced that eventually it will lead to brighter days.  At the same time, I’m bracing myself for more lessons & more struggles.  They are what shape us afterall.  I pray that soon, maybe by the end of this new year, I will truly grasp the truth that God began a good work in me and that it is HE who will complete it.  I pray that I will let go of whatever is keeping me from experiencing Him to the fullest and that when I finally do that the answers I’ve been searching for will not even matter anymore.

 

Indian Summer & other annoying delays…

I’ve always believed that life runs in cycles – in seasons.   I heard a sermon once by a really, really good FEMALE speaker (:>) who compared different stages of life to the seasons we normally associate with nature.  Spring is a new beginning, Fall is the end of something, etc…  I truly bought into that philosophy.  Nichole Nordeman wrote a song about it (refer to an earlier post…)  I think there’s much truth to it still.  But lately I’ve come to realize that there are some other seasons too.

There’s that bizarre 63 degree day in the middle of December.  You know the one…where people are running around in shorts because they can – and it’s December – and it’s Indiana – and that’s just fun.  And then there’s the evening in early September, even before Labor Day, that frost is predicted.  People hurry around trying to cover the last of their petunias and begonias and geraniums because it isn’t quite time for mums just yet.  But let’s face it, sometimes nature throws a curve ball.  And sometimes so does life.

I suppose those unexpected days can be fun every now and then, but there comes a time when I’m ready for Fall.  I want to break out my sweaters & sweatshirts & shut all the windows.  When the temperature climbs back to 75 it ticks me off.  I’m ready to move on.

I was sitting among friends the other night listening to a great little concert in a cozy little setting & just thinking.  I was thinking about how life is standing still right now.  It isn’t moving forward and it isn’t moving back.  It’s standing still and it’s ticking me off.  But there I was, among friends, listening to a great little concert, and I was missing what IS happening because I was dwelling on what isn’t.  It occurred to me that those 63 degree December days are rare gifts.  They’re meant to be enjoyed, not cursed.  Eventually the snow will come & then the blooms & then the warmth and so on…  It’s a cycle – it’s just not always smooth.

I hope I don’t look back on this particular season of my life someday and regret all I missed.  I hope that instead I’ll look back on it and celebrate the lessons it taught.  I hope soon I will stop dwelling on what isn’t and enjoy all that is.

 

Cousins

For those of you who don’t really think God has a sense of humor….this entry’s for you.

Yesterday I had to go to a family reunion.  This one was actually my step-mom’s side of the family.  She & my dad have been married for 16 years now & I love her & her kids.  I don’t really know the rest of her family though since I was grown & married myself before she came into the picture, so to be honest – I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.  Add to that the fact that it had been a really rough week for reasons I can’t really go into on a blog – and well – you can probably imagine my attitude towards the whole thing.

So I pull up to the place & don’t really recognize many of the cars.  I even questioned for a minute if I had the right location.  Then I walk in and see one of my best friends in the hall.  I stood there for a second with this puzzled “what in the world are you doing here?” look on my face & then my dad walks around the corner.  Then my step-mom comes over & explains the connection.  Turns out my friend was there at the request of her grandma who just happens to be my step-mom’s first cousin.  We were both cracking up at the fact that we are cousins???? Seriously???  Grandma walks over & says “Do you two know each other?”  We both just kind of looked at each other for a second before we gave the simple answer “uh…yeah.”  Now – I’m not sure what my friend was thinking at that point, but had we had a little more time & had Grandma actually wanted to know the whole story, here is what I really would have liked to have said:

I totally believe that God drops people in our lives right when He knows we need them.  And on rare occasions, He gives us people that actually need us too at the same time.  This is how the story of my friend and I began.  I met her a few years ago when I was still on staff at the church.  She was directed to one of the teams I led as a potential member.  It took her a few months to commit to it, but I stuck with it.  I felt like she was worth the effort.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that she was one of the smartest people I’d ever met.  She was articulate, funny & well read.  I didn’t find out until later that she was also a brilliant writer.  She was new to the church scene and eager & willing to jump in and get her feet dirty.  At the same time though – she didn’t take things at face value.  She liked explanations.  She liked to understand why we were doing what we were doing.  Her questions made me think.  She challenged my ideas on more than one occasion and that made me like her even more.  She was honest to a fault and her integrity amazed me.  Our friendship wasn’t really instantaneous.  She’s a skeptic by nature & held me at arms length.  But over time we started to understand one another.  The turning point came the night she stayed after a team meeting to confess to me – as a church staff member – some of the problems she was having with Church.  Not our church in particular.  Just Church as a whole.  I listened to her as she so eloquently explained her observations in her own special raw & real way.  I think she thought she was going to shock me and disappoint me, but instead I started to tear up – because she was putting into words what had been in my heart for months.  Her struggles were the same as mine.  For the next few months we had conversations almost daily.  We broke open the scriptures together & disected them book by book.  We read books & prayed and emailed our thoughts back and forth almost compulsively.  We met regularly to compare notes & observations & experiences.  It was a healing time for me – a huge step forward in my relationship with God.  Eventually I changed jobs.  She weathered the rough transition along with me and supported me each step of the way.  Just two days before the reunion we were on the phone discussing another revelation from God.  We were just what each other needed just when we needed it.  God’s so smart.

So yeah Grandma.  We kinda know each other.

I told a mutual friend of ours this story and she said “How cool.  You were sisters before and now you’re cousins too.”

Here’s to you Anonymiss – my long lost cousin.  So glad I got to meet you.

 

Soul Food

How is it that the distractions of every day life can sneak up and steal away the joy of living?  My days are filled with rushing around, multi-tasking & overall information over-load.  I try to support my friends, plan the dinner menu, schedule the pick up times for my kid & balance the checkbook – all while preparing loan documents that need to be ready in 12 minutes.  My brain is seldom ever thinking of only one thing at a time.  So on the rare occasion that I get some time to myself – like yesterday – and my soul starts to wake up a little bit…well…it freaks me out a little.

Yesterday I actually found myself thinking about something deeper than fund raisers, interest rates or paint colors.  It felt good & scary all at the same time.  I think when my soul shuts down I kick into neutral.  I numb myself to what’s really going on around me.  I turn away from the issues that need attention and justify it because of my busy schedule.  But I slowed down for a day & soaked in some life-giving stuff.  There was scripture, prayer, good music and a book.  There were conversations with friends and laughter with my son.  Turns out the Sabbath thing…a really good idea – even on a Wednesday.

Some random things I chewed on:

The election.  The government.  Why can’t people be just as passionate about the God who created them as they are about the government who controls them?  I can’t get past the story of Nehemiah.  He recognized the problems of his day too.  But God burdened his heart in such a way that he couldn’t do anything else but try to fix them.  I want my heart to be burdened like that.  I don’t want to complain about something that I’m not willing to help fix.

What’s the best way to be Jesus to people?  We talk about that a lot.  What should it look like?  He met needs.  He loved the unlovable.  He challenged the religious community.  Am I doing that???

Why do people have to complicate the simple?

What is the best side dish to go along with chicken & dumplings?   Ok.  So they weren’t all so philosophical.

But I went back to the routine of work today.  I ran errands on my lunch break, made phone calls in route to picking up Ethan,  fixed dinner,  wrapped birthday presents.  Stuff.  By 5pm I could feel my soul shutting down again.  The important reminders of yesterday were getting drowned out by the mundane of today.  So I’m writing it down.  After I’m done I’m going to read some more and maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to ignore this burden on my heart as easily.  Maybe I’ll actually do something about it.