Family Ties

Family dynamics can be the most stressful and the most rewarding relationships of your lifetime. 

I grew up as the eldest of four siblings - two girls, then two boys. Our family dynamic is a rare one: not only did our parents stay together through the entirety of our childhood, but all six of us want to remain friends as adults. Strengthened by lifelong bonds that leave few secrets between us, we legitimately enjoy each other's company... usually.

One of my favorite memories is from a family vacation to Virginia Beach, VA. This vacation was special for several reasons:

1. It involved all six family members: mom, dad, sister, and both brothers

2. It was out of state (only 1 previous family vacation could claim that) 

3. Lastly, it was bringing a closure to a long-time dream of my mother's. 

The purpose of this vacation was to visit the sister we'd never met. 

My sister Hannah was born very premature on October 14, 1987, and subsequently died the same day. It broke my parents' hearts. This gift they'd been waiting for, and struggled to conceive, was only in their arms for a few hours. After my parents and toddler-me moved halfway across the country in 1990 to be closer to family, financial strain, and more children, made it difficult to return to the East Coast to visit her grave. It was a long desire of my mother to re-visit where she lay. Her desire became ours as the four of us grew up. 

Finally, in summer of 2017, we were able to make it happen. We rented an AirBnB and spent the week exploring memory lane of my parents' late university and early marriage years. Midweek, we made the trip to the cemetery. We wandered the plots until we found the simple stone. 

Once we cleaned the area around her name and placed our flowers, we sat down on the ground around her and listened to my mother and father recount the stories they had of her. They spoke of how they felt throughout the pregnancy and her short life - the ecstasy of that positive test, the hesitancy due to their history of prior failed pregnancies, the fear when her water broke early, the gratefulness of the few moments they were able to hold her, the grief at her last breath, the anger at this gift being yanked away. We looked at pictures of  our precious two-pound baby sister. We cried together, prayed together, imagined what life might have been like if 1987 had the technology of today and she could have lived. 

While it was an incredibly sober moment, it was also beautiful. It was the only time all 7 of us had been in the same spot. 

Feeling Loved vs. Loveable

Love...
It's such a loaded word. Yet it is something everyone craves.
Love...
Is it a feeling? a choice? an action? Some inevitable force that hits you by accident or some divine intervention?
We all desire to be loved, to be wanted, desired, chosen. We want to be seen, heard, fully known... and accepted as we are. Yet so many of us shy away from affection, hide our true selves, put forth facades and acts in hopes of attracting someone who'll stick around long enough to make us feel good. If that can be achieved, many still panic when things get "too close", "too real", or "too serious". Even when we've been chosen as the object of affection, we become afraid that our true nature, our deepest selves will be rejected. In spite of the obvious attention and perhaps even declarations of love, we feel unlovable.
If he/she REALLY knew who/what I was, she/he would stop loving me, or leave me, or regret our time together.
One of the best quotes I know is from "Perks of Being a Wallflower":
     "We accept the love we think we deserve."
Somewhere in our lifetimes, no matter how short or long, we have encountered experiences that have shaped our mentalities into believing we are unlovable:
 - I'm not interesting enough
 - I'm not pretty enough
 - I'm not worth knowing
 - I have nothing to offer
 - I'm not smart enough
 - I've done things I regret
 - I've done things I can't forgive myself for
 - I can't measure up
These lies plague our minds. We believe them. We even understand them. We see ourselves and judge harshly. We see our flaws and can't comprehend how anyone can see past them. Whether we've been told this by those around us, those we love and trust, or whether we have devised these words up on our own behalf/to our own detriment, we cling to them. They become us. We let them define who we are and start building walls to hide ourselves away, never fully relaxing, never fully confident. Never fully at peace with myself, alone or in a crowd.
Sometimes this is portrayed with bravado, sometimes with panic or avoidance.
And it hits all ages, sexes, shapes and sizes. The grass is NEVER greener.
Those who are seen-from-across-the-room sexy believe they can never be loved for anything but their bodies. They are desperate to be known for who they are on the inside.
       "Stick around long enough to know me! Stop expecting me to give you what you see!"
Those who are outside Vogue's standards of beauty believe they can never be loved for their appearance. They are desperate to be seen as beautiful.
       "Tell me I'm desirable! Want me for more than my intellect/aptitude!"
Love is a tricky thing to give and to receive. It is a balance of self-worth...
 - I AM worth knowing and being loved.
 - I DO have something to offer another.
...and trust.
Love is difficult. It requires choosing to put another's needs before your own. It requires choosing to be vulnerable and letting someone else know your deep dark secrets: those things you regret, the hair you pluck, the things you hate and love about yourself, your hopes and dreams, your deepest fears. You are choosing to move forward in relationship, true companionship with another human being, whether it be in friendship or romance.

Sometimes a Bridesmaid, Someday a Bride…

The classic saying goes like this: “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” Or as 27 Dresses puts it; “Always, Always, Always a Bridesmaid…”

This is the mantra of the chronically single, those who have been unlucky in love or loveless; the ones who are repeated asked the question, “Why are you still single?” or told “You need to get you a man/girlfriend”, as if it was entirely dependent on one individual to have a successful relationship.

Do you ever feel overlooked? Forgotten? Simply not seen? Or heard? Despite your best efforts, you’re always on standby, waiting in the background, the support system for the friends and loved ones who frequent the spotlight.

The sidelines aren’t always a lonely place. Sometimes the shadows aren’t a place of quiet desperation, but of contentment and strength. It can be a place of respite and perspective. Sometimes you are there with friends and confidants; sometimes with understanding strangers.

There is a hope in the waiting. Seasons of waiting show one’s true character; how one responds when life doesn’t work out how they wanted or when they wanted reveals their capacity for patience and where their hope truly lies. To everything there is a season and a purpose under heaven. Times of waiting are temporary, change will come and with it, its own challenges. The season of waiting will then be worth it, and strengthening, if you let it.

Being single comes with its own sets of challenges, predominantly in the expectations department. The expectations you have for yourself or that you think other people have for you can be the weight of the world on your shoulders. Singleness can be the shackles on your feet or the freedom to dance. It’s your choice.

And for those of us who choose Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, there is a promise; a guarantee that singleness is only a season. I have planned my wedding ceremony and reception for a long time. The picture changes as I get older yet pales in comparison to the one I’m promised.

The music? Try: A live band. Trumpets from heaven.

The dance floor? Try: Streets paved with gold.

The groom? You want a bada** with the body of a god? Try: God, himself! Surrounded by fire, carrying a double-edged sword, tattooed with Lord of lords and King of kings

A grand entrance? Try: trumpets sounding, surrounded by fire, your groom literally descending from the clouds on a white horse

Until death do us part? Try: for eternity.

I couldn’t have written it better myself. Forget my story… I want to be a part of His story

Life... am I right?

Have you ever had one of those ideas, you know, the ones that you get really excited about for a month or so but then fall to the wayside, regardless of how good of an idea it is? From what I hear, most people have those ideas once a year, in January, and call them "New Year's Resolutions".
This blog was one of those ideas, that I apparently had in 2014, wrote well for a month, then periodically over the next few and then got busy and totally forgot about... for four years.

Life has a funny way reorganizing your priorities as you get older: Get that toy, finish school, maximize the summer, gain independence from your parents, find a career path, get a job, question your life choices... Seasons of financial crisis, quarter- or mid-life crisis, existential crisis, job instability, mental instability, indecision or over-decisiveness (those times where you make a bunch of commitment decisions in quick succession); Times of busyness and inactivity, births, deaths, sickness and health, tears and laughter, questioning and certainty.

The only thing I really know as I age is that I don't know anything. I have a BSN, in the process of my MSN-Nurse Educator degree, have tutored and counseled countless friends and patients; yet, at the end of the day, there is infinitely more that I am clueless about than I have knowledge of.

I encounter so many people who appear to "have it all together" or "know what they want out of life", yet, when questioned in casual conversation, each one laughs at that accusation and is quick to recount that they are as messed up as the rest of us. Each person has their own demons, their own fears/anxieties/insecurities/struggles; some are just more visible than others.

So, keep that in mind the next time you get frustrated at a friend, coworker, repairman, healthcare professional, cashier. It's important to know why you're upset and who the anger is really towards before you fly off the handle at whoever happens to be in front of you at the time. It's really best to stop, take a deep breath and a moment of reflection before reacting to situations that life throws at your face like bucket of lemons.

Ultimately, the best way to resolve conflict looks like this...

This has truly been a post that reflects this blog title. Hope you enjoyed this momentary insight into my rambling mind. Until the next time life prompts me to remember this exists...

You Find Me, a modern-day psalm

[My Revive Psalm, circa2014 ]

I can’t do this anymore. I am exhausted. I am overwhelmed. I don’t know who I am anymore. I am alone. Pressure to perform hangs over me like a guillotine, the blade poised to drop and end this façade at any moment. I’ve been so many things for so many people for so long.  I no longer know what’s truly me. I am worn thin. The struggle is real. Can anyone see? Does anyone notice I’m lost inside? Can anyone tell the inside is caving while the outside is smiling, saying that rehearsed line yet another time, “I’m good. You?” ?

Yet in the struggle, You find me, O Lord. You hear my unspoken cries and you come to me; you draw me in close. You speak beautiful Truth in my ear, the sweet somethings whispered to my aching heart. “You are altogether beautiful, my love…” “I called you out of darkness into the light.” “You are beautifully and wonderfully made.” “…there is no flaw in you.” “I knit you together in your mother’s womb.” “I know you, all of you, and I love you no matter what you do or don’t do.”

The weight of disappointment falls off my shoulders. I look into Your eyes and Your love washes over me, warming me from the inside out, leaving no part untouched. I can rest in Your arms, find rest and peace in You. Knowing you care more for my being than my doing. There is none like You Lord. You see the deepest parts of me, yet every time I come to You, You pull me into Your arms saying, “Oh there you are! Come here.” The judgment’s the same every time. “I love you. Don’t worry about it. I took care of it.” I am loved and accepted. You are faithful. You speak only Truth, not just words I want to hear, not condemnation, not “you should’ve done better.”  You are love. You are peace. Thank you, Jesus, for finding me, seeing through my mask, inviting me into You over and over again.

The Judge

I am standing in a courtroom, front and center. To my right and slightly behind is a table. Just out of my peripheral vision, my attorney, I know, is standing behind it. I can feel several pairs of eyes boring into the back of me from the onlookers in the pews behind me, some are those whose cases will come after mine, some are merely here for the show. Directly in front of me, tall and foreboding, sits the judge’s bench, the “Mercy seat”.  The Judge himself is leaning over the edge to look down on me. A recorder to my left is reading off a long list of my sins. It seems to echo on forever. His voice is muffled and indistinct. My palms are sweating, heart is racing. I can’t make eye contact with anyone. I steal a glance up at the Judge. His gaze points off in the distance, listening intently to my crimes, brow furrowed, there is an anger on his face. I turn away quickly. Finally, the recorder stops speaking. There is a silence of anticipation hovering thickly in the air. The voice of the jury reverberates through the hall. The only word distinguishable to my pounding ears is “guilty”. My breath catches in my chest. I know the sentence is isolation… execution… death. I look up into the face of the Judge. Where the anger sat before, there is a sadness as He looks directly into my eyes. An impregnable pause fills the room. A voice from behind speaks, breaking determinedly into the silence, “Father, do you want me to take this?” The Judge breaks eye contact, looking past me. His voice is calm and steady as he replies, “Yes.” I turn to my right, following his gaze to see my Savior.  A young man, in his 30s, tall, rugged, with shaggy brown hair that covers his head and face, meets my stare. His eyes seem to penetrate directly into my soul, the overwhelming emotion in them, love. He smiles as he passes me to the front of the courtroom. He looks on his Father, sitting in the Judge’s seat; a knowing look of sadness, love, and justice passes between them. As the guards take him through the doors that lead to the judgment sentence that once had my name on it, Jesus looks back on me and winks, as if to say “I’ll be back”. The doors close behind my Savior. I am rooted to the spot where I stand. I am overwhelmed. I am in shock. My mind is grasping for understanding on what just transpired. A voice breaks into the chaos of my thoughts. I look up. The Judge is smiling at me. There is compassion and love in his eyes. There is a joy in His voice as he calls me up to the witness stand beside him.  I am no longer stuck in my place of condemnation. I have been positioned next to the Judge, entrusted in a place of help, of importance in the cases to come. I have a purpose, accepted in the courtroom. 

Control Issues

I don't know about you all, but I have some control issues. I want to be in control... of everything: my life, my job, my family, my surroundings, my problems, my friends' problems. I frequently find myself trying to fix it... doesn't matter what "it" is, or whether or not I have the know-how or experience. Some things I've learned about control are as follows:

1.It puts emphasis on the individual. It's all about me: what I know, what I can do, and how "amazing" I am.

2. It rejects community and gives an excuse for a lack of vulnerability in relationships. In my own experience, I am quick to offer advice, but slow to ask for it. Reasons for my independence abound, such as: "I can handle it.", " I don't want to bother them.", "She just wouldn't understand.". So, I end up bottling up my struggles and trying to "fix it" myself.

3. It can result in unnecessary stress and strain. Being "in control" can seem like freedom, but at the end of the day, it feels like pressure. The weight of every situation you're "in control" over finds it's way to rest on your shoulders. I tend to be an over-thinker, so the end of my day consists of going back through all the decisions I made today and wonder if I said the right thing, did the right thing, if the advice I gave is going to altar the course of that person's life and sanity! Okay, that is a bit extreme, but you get the idea. What seemed like a good idea at the time, can be a source of stress later. And that is not how life was intended.

When scripture mentions "control", it is almost always in reference to "self-control". To clarify, this is not an "I do it myself" kind of control. It's more of an "I'm not going to overreact" kind of control. We don't always have control over our emotions, but we do have the ability to control the actions we take under the influence of those emotions.

I am frequently reminded that I am not in control. I can't fix the world's problems. I don't have all the answers. Often times, I don't even have enough answers for myself! Luckily for the world at large and for myself, I am not in control. Jesus is! Hebrews 2:8 states"...Now in putting everything in subjection to him, he left nothing outside his control." 

Jesus is in control. Whew! That is a relief! I know he has my best interests at heart. (Jeremiah 29:11) I know I don't have to live life on my own, because he is with me. (Deuteronomy 31:6) He has even given me people in my life to help me when I don't have the answers.(Genesis 2:18, Hebrews 10:24-25)