The Long Line

Went to Church Under the Bridge on Sunday. As I stood there looking out at the long line of homeless friends waiting for their coffee, my eyes brimmed with tears. Each one was a line in a page of a history book-each line of their face etched by years of miseries, or happiness, sorrows or joys. Each had a life they had lived and they looked worn out by it. Tired-exhausted. I wanted to scoop each one up and just be able to grant them rest. Get them out of the long line of life and start them on another path, but I couldn't. So I just talked with them, prayed with some, tried not to cry, tried to hear their stories, however garbled and nonsensical some were. That was all I could do-give them a brief lifeline of friendship.

Life in Random

Random thoughts on this September day, 2009. Maybe when I grow up, I will have a fancy blogspot with 100 followers who get on every other day just to see what I have to say ( I have a friend like this). Then again, maybe I will just live in obscurity, not fame, and one by one impact those around me. That sounds much more appealing. Less temptation to pride. I have been concerned lately about many things: one is young people's obsession with music-Christian, non-Christian-mostly non-Christian. Think of all the space you have filled in your mind with schmaltzy lyrics that could be filled with the Word of God. How many of these professing Christian young people take time to memorize God's word? And hey, with all the money spent on music and the hours that the ipod is plugged into your head-what could you actually be doing for the Lord to impact the world for His kingdom? Sorry-just a few thoughts. If you see entertainment out of control in my life, please tell me. We are such a distracted people-such a pampered bunch, such consumers. When are we going to learn to give until it really hurts? I am preaching to myself here as well. What can I give up for someone else today? time, money, resources, my rights? We all need a large dose of unselfish living. What are we willing to give up to get closer to God? Jesus gave His time, His home (He had none), eating (40 days of fasting), sleep (many sleepless nights), His reputation, His mental energy (teaching constantly) and eventually His life. What did He not give up? What did He keep for Himself and why do we grab so recklessly when all He did was give? Just something to think about.

Bittersweet

We have just returned from what might be our last family vacation before Rachel goes off to college next summer. She is going through her closet, cleaning things out and I realize that next year this time we will be packing all her childhood memories off in boxes and she will be leaving. I am not ready for this. Is one ever ready for this? Is it even possible to get ready for your heart tearing in two? I see so much evidence this year of God preparing her. I have to trust His plan, His timing, His preparation of her. Mine is coming to an end. I peruse all our homeschool books on the shelf and a pain stabs my heart. Most of my reading days with her are over. No more snuggle time or living adventures through books together- I may be able to sneak in one more book this summer. I will miss it and so many more things so much. God will have to do a work in my heart as well-to prepare it to let go.

Phases

There are always plusses and minuses in any new phase of life. I am stuck right now in the minus zone. Rachel has one year left at home-one year left for me to homeschool her, although I will not even be doing much of that next year as she will be taking most of her classes elsewhere. Christina wants to skip a year and start high school. Why do they want to grow up so quickly? There are so many things that I miss about the younger years-the things they played, the time we spent reading, outings we used to go on, not being so busy and so bound by activities-the thing I miss the most, however, is knowing that I had a lot of time still left. I don't have that any more with Rachel. We are down to the wire and I don't like the wire.
I must force myself to look the way of the plusses. The fact that I can have amazing and deep conversations with my girls. Seeing them coming into their own-becoming their own people, with independent ideas and goals. Seeing them fail, and pick themselves up, seeing them learn to love and obey God more and more each day. Knowing that we have had so many memories together that will last a lifetime and that I have no regrets about putting them in school and losing all these years. Still, my thoughts wander back-taking them to Awana when they were younger, going on little road trips-the two of them riding in the backseat together and playing/singing, coloring together while I read to them, putting on plays on the weekend and playing dolls for hours. I know they have to grow up-it is just so hard. I love where they are now, I just don't want them to leave-and yet I do, because I know they have to become their own people with their own lives and that is one of my goals as a parent: to get them to the point of leaving and doing it successfully. It won't be without pain.

Losses

I am mourning all the losses that accompany this disease called Alzheimers. It is a slow and gradual and unpredictable death and instead of mourning it after the fact, I have to mourn it now-little by little. Today I have been thinking about all the things my mom will no longer be able to do with my girls, especially. They are the extension of me now and I had so many hopes for times with their Grandparents that probably will not be realized now. This also encompasses my dad, as we cannot leave mom and go galavanting around. No more Greenhorn walks, no more hiking adventures. No more telling of Sammy Squirrel (my girls were getting too old for that anyway). Probably no more painting lessons, reading aloud or dancing while mom plays her beautiful Chopin pieces. No more seeing Gram cook in the kitchen-I even have to mourn the loss of conversations and the transfer of her memories and values. I hate this disease. It is a thief. I have to force myself to move on from the mourning place and do this quickly as it is dangerous to spend too much time here. My family has already told me that. I have to remember that maybe the Greenhorn is out, but quiet walks are not. We can still play games and read to Gram and the girls can play the piano for HER-she would like that. She can hear Christina sing and watch Rachel dance and that will bring HER joy. Now it is about her, not us. It has always been about us and now we are passing the baton. We can tell her stories, and ask her questions and listen when she wants to talk and try to get her to be able to open as many memory doors as she can and pull out whatever is left behind each one. That we can do and we must. This gives me hope and a purpose and ultimately, that is what the other side of grief is all about.