It's ok

I'm I

I am six months in to grief whatever that means. A bit longer than that since Dad and I had a long meandering conversation that only ended when someones phone was dying. Things are supposed to start getting easier. They aren't of course. I'm focusing on it too much for that to happen which is totally ok. I planted 11 year old watermelon seeds Dad gave me and had nightmares for two weeks about them not germinating. Real dreams about watermelon seeds. I'm ok with that. I don't have much that was his, much that he held in his hands and wrote on. I have my watermelon seed envelope though. They did germinate. He was so excited for me to plant them so long ago when I lived in Littleton that he mailed them to me.  I found them sprouting last night on the eve of six months gone. Sometimes I cry picturing his face and sometimes I cry just because my heart hurts and that's ok too. I still go to bed and get up and cry and blow my nose just like six months ago but now I'm not begging for it to stop I'm just literally ok with it. I wish I could say I have changed and grown and become a bigger better person. I'm not. I'm pretty much exactly the same. I offend people constantly. My lovely thorn in the flesh. The only improvement is that I have kicked self reproach to the curb. I don't care about trying to be more like Jesus anymore. (gasp). I care more about being with Jesus. We all yak yak about trying to be more like Him. When He was here people followed Him around to listen to Him say things they couldn't even grasp, to watch Him perform miracles beyond their wildest dreams, to touch Him because He was God, to know Him and feel His love and to ask Him questions only He was wise enough to answer and learn from Him secrets only He could teach. His Apostles ran around telling everyone about Him so people could know Him and His consuming love, not so they could copy Him and postulate. And what is the refrain again? Allow Him into your heart. If He's there the change He wants is part of a natural process. That's why I'm focusing on letting Him in. No more self help. I'm just going to let Jesus make me into whatever He wants... and I'm gonna be ok with it. Even if people don't like me or look down on me for not being more Christ like. News flash world. We're all stinky sinners and that is not going to change in this lifetime. Moreover, if you have things you don't like about yourself and you sit around poking at it saying "I want to be more like Jesus" like some kind of robot, its not going to help. I know this for a fact. So if  you want to pull sin out of your hearts by the root? Talk to Jesus more. It's my new strategy. I'll keep you posted on whether or not it works. (wink wink)

Ahhhh! Say this to me over and over Jesus! 

“Why are you sleeping?” he asked them. “Get up and pray, so that you will not give in to temptation.” (Luke 22:46 NLT)

I'm so jealous of these guys in this moment. I can't imagine what it would be like to have Jesus explain all of the prophesies.

They said to each other, “Didn’t our hearts burn within us as he talked with us on the road and explained the Scriptures to us?” (Luke 24:32 NLT)

Serve

This morning I felt clever and ambitious for a morning with my girls so at 8:30 I yelled upstairs asking if they were ever going to get up proclaiming it was 10:30 already. They tumbled downstairs and had some eggs and muffins then my petulant 11 year old asked what we were going to do today. I felt irked at the expression on her face but ignored it and asked her to put pandora on Adele for me. She said she was sick of Adele and all of her songs and she wouldn't do it. I narrowed my eyes and pointed out that I haven't had Pandora on one of my stations in weeks. She ignored me. Then her sister chimed in with a sentiment that if she never had to listen to my music again it would be too soon. I glared at them and asked exactly why every request I make in life is too much for them to give then turned my Adele on. I turned on Eden and asked her if she's proud of who she seems to be trying to become. She sulked. My heart twisted. I felt like a toddler who had just thumped down on my bottom to think. I felt cantankerous and summer had just begun. I missed my people like crazy all school year and now look at us. I realized this day was still young and threw the whole feeling off like a cloak and began going around the house gathering up nail polish and remover and all of the other stuff I needed. Eden still sulked on the couch. Finally I was ready and I sat on the ottoman in front of her with my stuff. She perked up and said "oh what color are you doing?" I said "purple" and pulled her foot into my lap. She looked shocked and said "oh I thought you were going to do your nails." As a side note, I went and got a pedicure over a month ago from the self proclaimed best pedicurist in the Denver area and they still look awesome. So I just started clipping her nails. They were jagged and full of dirt. She talked about the mud pit at camp when I observed the dirt and I resisted commenting on how she could still have dirt in her nails three days after she got home.  I got a pot and filled it with steamy water, a nail brush and soap. I soaked and scrubbed and clipped and soaked and scrubbed and clipped. I talked about how girls usually do this at the beginning of summer and usually before camp and she laughed. Then I removed bits of about four colors of nail polish. She excitedly ran upstairs for her little toe separators. I labored over her nails for quite some time and honestly they needed my attention. The hard edges between us melted away. We chatted about everything. Then I treated Hazel. She giggled wiggled and smudged and chattered. Then I treated Kait who reclined like a princess and patiently waited. Eden loaned her the toe separators which turned her poor tiny toes blue but she didn't want to take them off. Haha. They basked in my loving service. I reveled in serving them in a different way than doing laundry and making meals. It was very refreshing. At 11:00 we were about to head to Longmont and Eden looked at me suspiciously and said "Exactly what time DID we get up this morning anyway?" I blandly replied "8:30." She looked like Sherlock Holmes and incredulously said "you lied!!!!!" I smiled beatifically and headed out the door. The rest of our day has been amazing. I really believe it's because I decided in my heart what I wanted out of this day then I took a physical time consuming approach to accomplishing it. So to all you Mommy's... when you hit your last straw, maybe every tenth time it happens, just turn that old devil flat on his back and do something unexpected for the one's you love. For me it was more rewarding than taking a treat for myself.

Butterfly

Little thoughts, feelings, memories flit through my mind like a butterfly. Some land and rest in my mind, they unfurl to show me all of their beauty. Some stay tightly closed too painful to look at the beauty and flit away to come again another day. I'm thankful I have the painful beauty. I am. But equally thankful my appendage is always here. She takes all of the change from my purse, hides in a fake log at the play area and repeats to herself "I like monies!" 

She arranges them on a log bench and drops one "oh I dropped my monies mommy!" She puts her monies back in my purse and extracts a small mirror. She smiles at herself and picks bits of food off her face. She smooths her hand over her cheek and practices a cheeky grin.

 It's such bliss to bask in her chatter. It's beautiful and beauty I crave every minute. Present beauty.

I embraced Fathers Day for my honey yesterday.

 But of course my kids take it for granted. Forcing them to get up, forcing them to help make breakfast, forcing them off the TV and out to the garage to watch Daddy make a chair. I always hung around watching my Daddy work. Why does this moment need to be orchestrated? Why are their privileges not a delight to them? Can you hear my teeth gritting? I'm often reminded that they are children and so they are. I wish I could be that blogger I was 5 years ago when I documented every magic moment with the thrill of fresh and new parenthood. I was watching a rose called family slowly open. Now I water, prune, fertilize and rinse and repeat. It still has marvelous rewards but it's sometimes tedious. 

What I am truly thankful for is that my frustrations and doubts and exasperations do not translate into pictures. They are just beautiful and I do love simple beauty.

Dear boy

Nick, I love you so. You were my little buddy always offering loads of love and cuddles. You were my first confidant when I found out I was pregnant with Hazel. We had adventures, cuddles and sweet memories as you bursted through life. I'm blessed to have you for seven wonderful years. I can't tell you how incredibly blessed your dad and I feel to have you in our life.

Now what did Jesus say again?

I've always been the hammer. Hammer that truth in til it hurts and then cut them off at the knees and wonder why they are just screaming bloody murder instead of saying "you're right, I get it, I'm a completely changed person forever thank you for opening my eyes". Um... yeah. So while some of us literally revel in the glory of truth others revel in the freedom of interpretation. Awkward! So then Dad would say "you know you'll catch more bees with honey than vinegar Boogle." And I would say "sometimes the truth hurts." And he would say "I've been at this a little longer than you and you have to ask yourself what result you want, not focus just on being right." Then I would say "I don't have patience for that kind of approach." And he would chuckle. And it didn't bug me because he's my dad and naturally he knew what he was talking about even if I wasn't interested in accountability at that moment. Time to talk to Dad stretched on my horizon as far as I could see. How quickly things change. After losing Dad all of the fight just drained out of me in a puddle. And I asked myself who was Dad? The answer was the sound of a beautiful Irish Ballad or the sight of a beaming proud smile or the aroma of sweat and hay or the taste of sweet honey or the touch of rough perfect hands. The thought of who he was blesses me. And I asked myself what will I leave and I found myself reaching for more. I've rarely ever reached a persons heart with truth even though I know it well and it came so naturally to him. I'm on a new mission to find that tenuous balance between defending scriptrual truth and being guided by empathy and love; specifically to Christians who struggle with embracing the whole message of The Word. I think pride is my primary foe. If I long to make myself look good or right or smart or better or the best or PERFECT I've already lost. I've done that and it makes me look... pompous and arrogant and full of myself and a lot more like someone else than Jesus. I used to drive around and around a hayfield daydreaming of my dad allowing me to use a walkman so I could listen to Sarah McLachlan which would be a huge hazard and never allowed. Ironically he did compromise on my daisy dukes and tank tops and flip flops. Now I wish I'd used that calm productive vacuum of time to reflect on the beauty of first loving someone then sharing truth after they are secure in that love. What a gift that would be, to naturally style my life after Jesus and to do His will with a pure heart. I was reading about how to help a narcissist feel empathy. Apparently it's a real clinical disorder. through that article I gained empathy for narcissists. It was a crazy five minutes. I thought about everyone I've ever debated and what it would be like to reach a point of empathy with a struggling sister or brother in Christ before I ever utter a word of debate. To actually try to understand them. I wonder if I could ever go deeper than rhetoric like "well I know gay people and I like them" all the way to a heart message which might be "I have a deep fear of rejection from my very wonderful gay friend if I accept the Bible at it's word and try to live by it." That's transcending a roadblock and understanding fear. Then we might talk about the incredible personal spiritual significance for a Christian in living by the Word of God without imposing expectations from it on those of different beliefs. Then we could even talk about how important it is to be able to trust your gay friend, your agnostic friend, your atheist friend, your liberal friend, your Muslim friend to love you even if you believe in the Bible, just as you are called to love them exactly as they are. I see real peace in this for every Christian to truly live unconditional love with truth. We could probably even reach to the uncomfortable point of discussing the fact that gay marriage infringes on religious freedom because marriage is a religious practice performed by clergy and should never be dictated by government in compliance with separation of church and state.  Then we would have to come to a point of completion by discussing how lawmakers could go about protecting both interests because we all know that one group of people and their rights should not rank higher than another. Does that make sense? I used to want to bang people over the head with the truth and tell them to stop messing up Christianity and making us look like wimps but I was... well crap... I was WRONG and I got nowhere. 

On an extreme end of the love/truth spectrum, my friend debates her extended family's mormon faith regularly. She researches facts and squares off ready for battle. The fact is she found her way out of that heresy and I think it drives her crazy that any of them still hang on to it.  Recently she told me she's been left a copy of the book of mormon with notes for her read to help clear up her doubts and restore her to the mormon faith. She asked me the other day should she read the notes, should she set for another round and put on her religious boxing gloves? After all my years of churning my wheels trying to proudly say something just clever enough to throw someone off their high horse, I just weakly say no. It goes against all of my old habits. I am reluctantly coming to the conclusion if you get drawn into a debate on the semantics of another persons faith you have already lost. You are on the defense. It doesn't matter if you gather up verses and facts and knock them down to a count of three over and over, if you never reach their heart. It's as pointless as eating paper. It's a clanging gong. I know. I do it all of the time. Any victory you claim will not be the victory you wanted. I do know you can reach the heart of the mormon debater through prayer and patience and timing and love, lots of love. Ugh, sooo hard! But I'm inspired to think we can simply look to the amazing Jesus we so fortunately know. If we focus on an end goal of setting a heart free to be loved by Jesus wholly and completely unconditionally we will persevere. I really believe with a pure heart we will not err. Then we are wind chimes or a flute. Because Jesus didn't really seek indifferent people. He sought hungry people and his love was palpable. When he spoke, he lifted the heart, healed the body, nourished the person and he set them FREE. So I encourage my friend to love her Mormons for now and wait for them to get thirsty for Living Water.

Another friend has funny stuff happen. Her life is an amusing education to me. She lives in Jerusalem and hangs out with a bunch of ex-pats who are mostly Palestinian sympathizers and even has a Bible Study with several of them. So she has people try to lead her into convoluted debates which is torture for her. She hates to debate.  I think she has an advantage just being someone who dislikes conflict. I think it gives her the restraint to wait for the thing worth saying and I really admire how she channels Jesus and shows grace. She has plugged away for two years, sometimes gritting her teeth and sometimes wanting to lay in the floor and laugh hysterically for a release from the vise grip of conflict and verbal sparring. All this time she patiently sowed seeds of truth into each person who came into her life and asked God if this was the one she was to reach possibly even for the kingdom of Christ. I know there were two non-Christians she really hoped to reach. One time she even took some of her Bible Study friends to the Temple Mount Institute to see all of the things the Jewish people are making for when they rebuild the Temple and one lady asked four times why the Jewish people want a temple again since Jesus came.  She took each interaction seriously and one day she called me undecided on whether to reply to an email sent from a Palestinian sympathizer filled with biased propaganda. I think it's just crazy so I told her I'd just walk away. Why cast your pearls before swine? Right? From my limited vantage point it appears that she is dealing with hard hearted uninformed people opposed to Israel which is not even Biblical. Regardless of whether they are Christians, they appear to be missing out on a pretty fundamental piece of truth that could give their lives in Israel context and dimension. And it seems to me they are very deliberate in maintaining that doctrine. And that is where I err. I am so human indeed. After all her time there and confounding stories, I found her position so daunting I told her it sounded pointless. And then today... she told me that in the time she has been there... she's seen a softening a changing of heart in one of her Bible Study ladies and it was all confirmed just today. Yes she got to watch some scales fall off of a pair of eyes and it was EXCITING! She was already a Christian but all that time, regardless of what was perceived she was sifting through and searching for new truths. And that woman was the one I so scorned for asking why the Jews want to rebuild the temple. I felt so chastened. My friend said she felt blessed to know her time there had some spiritual impact for one person. She was used by God to open a window for someone to see more of Jesus and God's plan. Soon she will fly home from her grand adventure but she has patiently sown seeds of love and truth. I can see already that some has fallen on fertile ground. Honestly, that is all I aspire to be.