Loosening my Grip

Leaving town when you have four children is a big deal.

Especially when you are leaving said children behind.

Because of this, Mark and I haven't taken many "just the two of us" trips in our almost 17 years of marriage.  

But after weeks of planning, we headed to the airport last Friday morning for a four day weekend in Boston.  It was my brother's graduation from Boston University and I wanted to be there.

I won't go into the layers of family history that made this event even more important to me than it would be to any devoted sister, but it WAS a big deal and I VERY MUCH wanted to be there.  

I knew we would be cutting it close when I booked our tickets.  We had an arrival time in Boston of 2:30 and the ceremony would begin at 5:30.  We would make it - as long as there were no major delays. It would be close.  But we would make it.

We arrived at the airport in Tulsa in the midst of a massive thunderstorm.  As we checked in, Mark noticed our bags were only checked to Dallas and pointed out the mistake to the attendant.  

"Ummmm, ma'am?  Our bags are only checked to Dallas and we're going to Boston."

"No, you're not."  She replied.  "You're going to Boston tomorrow."  

We laughed nervously and rechecked our tickets.  

"No, we're going to Boston today,"  Mark insisted.

The flight attendant checked her information and informed us calmly that our flight to Boston had been cancelled for today.  

My heart sank.  As she began working to try to find a flight that would get us where we wanted to go at some point in the next 24 hours, I felt a surge of disappointment well up within me.  

At that same moment, a still, small VOICE spoke to me...

"I want you to hold everything loosely today."

Calming me, even in the midst of my sadness, I knew at that moment that He saw me and understood me.  

He also knew I wasn't going to make it to the ceremony.

Throughout the day, a long day with one travel delay after another, I wrestled with disappointment, frustration and sadness, but was consistently calmed by following the Father's instruction to hold my plans loosely.

Interesting lesson to be learning in my early forties.

I was the kid that did calendar countdowns for events I was anticipating.  In fact, I often worked myself up before a special event so much that I would become sick (literally) and end up missing the whole thing.  I spent MANY moments lying on my bed in despair as my mom delivered the news that I was too sick to do whatever it was I was looking forward to doing.

I have always held my hopes and plans closely - TIGHTLY.

There is a sense of security that comes for me when I make my plans because - I gotta tell ya - I make a GOOD plan.  I feel in control when the plan is MY plan and, even after all these years, it's easy for me to believe that if I make the plan it is less likely to fail.

Yeah, I'm broken.  I'm a broken person.

I love how the Father recognized this broken place in me last weekend and literally COACHED me through the letting go ALL DAY LONG.

I trust that He will continue to do this as I learn to loosen my grip on my "best laid plans."

And learn to surrender to Him - as the Great Planner.

And the best part?

Even though we missed the ceremony, we celebrated with my brother, his wife and his little girl in a big way the next day.  It was a wonderful day.  Perfect, really.

And I didn't plan it.

Unplugged

Once again, an unfaithful blogger is back online and attempting to write something worthwhile.

I have a good excuse for my latest blogging lapse.

Last week our entire family "unplugged" as a Lenten exercise the week before Easter AND as a chance to get a good glimpse of how plugged in our family has become.

It was fantastic.  Difficult, but fantastic.

No Facebook (oh, how I love Facebook).  No television (oh, how we all love television).  No video games (Dear Lord, how my boys LOVE video games).  No music (my poor daughter thought she was going to die).

Actually, we did listen to some worship music on occasion.

And David didn't suffer.  On the contrary, WE suffered through his repertoire of Baby Einstein dvds just like we always do.

Mark read three books.

I read two books.

My daughter is now reading FOUR books... at once.

Jackson and Charlie discovered a new series of books and began to devour them.

We played Monopoly.

Scratch that.  We STARTED playing Monopoly.  That game never ends.

We played Bananagrams.  Ever played this?  So.  Much.  Fun.

Mark and I played cards when the kids went to bed.

And we talked.  A lot.

Not that we don't talk around here.  We do.  But we talked more.  And we were more thoughtful in our conversation.  Loved this.

Jackson commented many times over how much he was enjoying the week and how he could see the hold that video games had had on his heart and mind.

That alone made the entire exercise a success, in my opinion.  Remember, he's ELEVEN.

So, I think we all agreed (except for maybe Morgan) that this was a good exercise and one that we should observe more often.

At least once a year.

Kidding.

And last night Mark and I broke our weeklong screen fast with the season finale of Parenthood.

Sigh.

My Course

Yeah, so there's no real big revelation here.

Just a bit of settling, if you will.

I've blogged a little about this before.

I'm 41.  I have 3 "big" kids (not grown, but over halfway there).

I have a toddler.

I homeschool.

I have often found myself wrestling with the seemingly endless limitations on my life.

I see several of my close friends moving on to the next season of their own life journeys and I feel like I'm being left behind.

Let's be clear.  They're not making me feel left behind.  They're awesome.  They're fantastic.  I can't imagine life without them.

But I feel it nevertheless.

I just can't do the things they can do right now.  And it can be frustrating.  A little sad.

So, the Lord is saying to me... "Stay on YOUR course."  And, "I've got this."  And, "This is a GOOD journey."

And He's right, of course.

I'm on a good journey.  It's difficult and hard and exhausting... but oh so wonderful.

And look at what I get to be a part of along the way...

This beautiful inside and out girl

This fantastically brilliant boy

This wonderfully funny and charming boy

And this baby boy ball of life, energy and surprises

What I Learned

So, the Daniel Fast is over.  Officially.  We did it.  Well, we almost did it.  We ended up cutting it short by one day and one meal.  Everything was going fine and then Mark threw his back out on one of the busier days I've had in a long time and by the second day of his bed-ridden state, I was a little unnerved.

And a dear friend sent me a text offering to bring us dinner.

Of course I said yes.  And I felt great about that decision.

So we broke our fast with a large ham and pineapple pizza from Bellacino's.

Felt great about that, too.

Anyway, I learned some things through this almost 21 day experience.

Sugar isn't a necessary part of my every day.

Coffee gives me headaches (but I still LOVE it).

Physical therapy is my answer to chronic back pain and degenerative disc disease. (it's really working!)

Food doesn't fill me.  Not really.

Jesus fills me.  He really does.

I don't care for lentils.

Mark can't stand lentils.

I'm to stay the course (and my "course" doesn't look like most of those around me).

It was good.

And I'm glad it's done.

Lent Day 7

Wow.  After today we'll have been on the Daniel Fast for one week.  It's gone by fast!

I'm encouraged.  I have been going to physical therapy for over two weeks now - three times a week, plus exercises at home two more days a week.  My pain is definitely down.  Definitely.  I haven't taken pain medication since last week!  This, my friends, is a miracle.

I have to be careful.  I know that.  I plan to be.  Don't want to do anything to jeopardize the progress I'm making.  

It is difficult, though.  I feel better and I want to respond to this by doing MORE.  I want to go walking and biking.  I want to garden.

But I can't.  Not ready yet.

Being limited is frustrating.  I've never been one to readily recognize my limitations.  I kind of just push through whatever to get done what I want to get done.

This works some of the time.  It certainly keeps my house clean.

But I find that pushing through pain is usually a bad idea.  I can't just put my head down and barrel through without paying a high price.

I have to be thoughtful.  Careful.  Smart.  I have to surrender what I think is important and listen to the truth about what is really important.

This is true for other kinds of pain in my life.  It doesn't work for me to just barrel through.  I've tried.

The result?  Depression.  More pain.

I want to respond to pain in my life with thoughtfulness, care, wisdom and most importantly, prayer.

When I turn to the Father and I'm willing to listen, He's quick to tell me what is really important - and it's rarely the same thing I was thinking.

Surrender.  It reduces my pain.

Day One

Today is the first day of Lent.  Day one.  Numero Uno.

I only began observing Lent a few years ago.  I was raised Southern Baptist and it's not something traditionally observed in that denomination (or wasn't when I was growing up) so I thought this was something reserved for Catholics.  Our church community here widely embraces the practice and discipline of fasting and I have participated in some fashion off and on through the last few years.

I love the discipline of it.  I love that in doing without something for a period of time, I find myself craving more of God.

I DON'T love the doing without something I love.

This year Mark and I are fasting together.  We haven't done this often in our marriage and we both are excited about sharing the experience.

One of the books I am reading during this time encourages you to be intentional about determining the purpose of your fast.

For my part, I think Mark and I are wanting to cultivate new life in our marriage and in our home.

No, I don't mean another baby.

Lord, no.

But after 17 years of marriage, four children, years of hard work and sacrifice to build a strong foundation for our company and various other challenges that most of us face throughout our lifetimes, some new "life" would be nice.

Life in our relationship with one another.

Life in our relationships with our children.

Life in our day to day schedules.

Life in our family relationships.

Life in our friendships.

Life in our walk with our Father.

I also want to be intentional about a few things that I tend to set aside on a daily basis because I'm just too darn busy to get to them.  Like my quiet times.  Or my blogging times.  Or my writing just for the sake of writing times.  Or my "get on the floor and play with my children" times.

Gonna work on those.

Finally, this book poses the question:  If you could change three things about your life, what would they be?


Yikes.

First of all, there remains in me a sense of shame attached to a few areas of struggle or experiences in my life.  I would LOVE to be able to let those go.

Second, I would like to see a letting go, if you will, of the extreme importance I put on my daily "to do's" so that I have space for other, more important things.  Like my husband.  And my children.  And others that I love so dearly.

Third.  My health.  In general, I'm healthy.  But I'd love to see a change in the amount of pain I deal with on a day to day basis.  I know that this will require some work on my part and I'm doing that now - really doing it.  Exercise.  Change in eating habits.  But I also know that the Lord can meet me as I'm making changes and doing my exercises and help me along the way.  I'm praying for that.

So, that's my Day One.  Thirty-nine to go.

Memories

I love making memories with my children.  I'm very intentional about it.  I spend a lot of time and energy planning and preparing for moments that I hope they will remember and cherish.  When they are grown, I would love to know that they are who they are and value what they value IN PART because of the moments we had together as a family.

I know that's true for me.

I am who I am IN PART because of the moments I shared with my family growing up.

My brother and I recently had a conversation with our mom regarding our childhood memories.  She wanted to know if we had any "good" memories of times when we were together as a family.

Hmmm.

Here's the deal... I have LOTS of good memories with my family.  Lots.  But they are hinged upon choices we made in that moment to enjoy each other and what we had in the midst of the pain we were experiencing.  Every time.

My brother made a statement during that conversation that really struck me:  "The only people who dwell on bad times are people who have no sense of goodness or mercy in their lives."


I thought that was worth posting.  


I always want to be aware of God's goodness and mercy in my life.   


My memories are only a PART of me. 


I am made WHOLE because of who He is and has always been in me.


And I am thankful that He will complete and make WHOLE each of the lives of my children.