I Need You to be Present

I tend to be a whiner these days.

The world disappoints me.

A lot.

More specifically, people in the world disappoint me.  The way they treat each other, the things they say to each other, the selfish choices they make leave me feeling disheartened and quite frankly, pessimistic about the future. 

Thus, it's become a common theme in my prayer life for me to ask, no, beg, for Christ to return, pull the plug on the Earth episode, and bring us all home.

This morning, as I was washing my hands at the kitchen sink, preparing to gather up my gear and head out the door for work, I heard God say, "Come spend some time with me." 

When it comes to obedience in the spiritual realm, I will admit that I have often been a slow learner, choosing to go my own way rather than "hopping to" at God's request.  Insisting on my own way has almost always resulted in a less-than-desirable end.

So, I grabbed a dish towel, wiped my hands, and headed for the chair. 

After grabbing my prayer beads and inviting God to join me, I conferred with God, concerning the various people and issues on my mind. 

Heart broken by the brokenness of the people I had prayed for, I once again pleaded with God to return.

And then I stopped.

And waited.

A voice, clear and matter-of-factly, said,

I need you to be present. 

Those six simple words felt like a warm rain on a hot, summer day.

I have allowed myself to get sucked into the mire.  I have been focusing on all that I perceive to be wrong, depressing, and hopeless in the world - not worrying about, but resigning myself to the inevitable depravity preceding Christ's return.

This morning, God pushed the reset button and reminded me that the sights need readjustment because I'm missing His intended target.

To explain, I am on this earth, right now, to bring glory to God.  My only job is to stay attuned to His still, small voice and move when He says, "Go."

I need you to be present.

These days, people, including me, do not need to be reminded about or fixate upon all that is wrong in this life.  Pain, heartache, disappointment, discord, selfishness, and evil are everywhere; they are inescapable. 

What they do need is kindness, patience, a gentle glance, encouragement, hope, and the most precious commodity of all, time. 

I need to be present in order to give people what they need.

"Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see,
Everything that I keep missing,
Give your love for humanity.
Give me your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten.
Give me Your eyes so I can see."

That Stinks

^“8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; ⁹ persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. ¹⁰ We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.” 2 Corinthians 4:8-10

While sipping on my coffee on Saturday morning, I caught the tail-end of Mike’s Mix, a weekly feature on WCCO in which the morning commentator, Mike, visits local watering holes to sample and learn a variety of drink mixes. 

As the bartender was preparing the featured concoction, he twisted a palm-sized patch of fresh mint from the prolific plant at his elbow, threw it in a mortar, and began smashing and grinding it with a pestle.

“In order to get the best flavor,” he explained, “you have to beat it [mint] up.” The camera then cut to a shot of a green, pulpy mess at the bottom of the glass over which ice and a variety of liquids were promptly deposited.

In order to get the best, the mint leaves had to go through the worst.

The same is true of bananas.  As any baker worthy of the title will tell you, the most flavorful banana bread is made from the most bruised, near-rotten fruit.  As gross as it may sound, if the banana is near the point where you can stick a straw in it and drink it, that banana is at the peak point to be smashed and added to the batter.  That over-ripe banana, which seems too discolored, damaged, nasty and useless, is the perfect ingredient for the best, most delicious sweet bread.

This is good news for those of us who feel bruised, damaged, and useless. . .which means it’s good news for all of us.  As humans, we all feel bruised, damaged and useless at some point in our life journey, and sadly, there are many times when we cause the bruises and damage to others – intentionally and unintentionally.

The good news is that hurts are never wasted.  In our limited human understanding, we often see imperfections and spoilage as the end. But to God, it’s a new beginning, and His beginnings are always far more wonderful and beautiful than we could have ever imagined.  In order to get the best, we have to go through the worst.

But that’s not all.

 “Sometimes God causes severe winds of trial to blow upon His children to develop their gifts. Just as a torch burns more brightly when waved back and forth, and just as a juniper plant smells sweetest when thrown into the flames, so the richest qualities of a Christian often arise under the strong winds of suffering and adversity” (Streams in the Desert).

The stink of our shortcomings and failures often becomes a stench of guilt and shame that isolates us.  We expend a ton of energy in hiding our flaws and worrying about the judgment of others. We clam up when someone asks us how we are and resign ourselves to suffer in silence.  We choose to avoid people because we are afraid that our blemishes and foulness will repulse others. 

Often, the opposite is true.  While no one (I hope) rejoices in the failure of others, everyone is looking for someone who “gets it” – someone who has been there and understands exactly what it feels like, someone who has lived through it, someone who can offer a kind word of encouragement, a shoulder of support, and sometimes, a point in the right direction. 

In short, our stench can be a sweet fragrance of hope to someone who senses none.

Bruising and pain are inevitable consequences of a sin-filled world. This is a certainty for all humans; no one gets a “bye.”  But as the bananas of the world, we can continue to deteriorate and rot alone and in futility, or we can allow God to transform and use our hurt to create something savory and. . . heavenly.

 “Bruised hearts often emit the fragrance that God loves to smell.”

Bear With Me: How-To When Others Annoy or Hurt You

Without getting into details (because I am honestly not yet ready to share), I will admit that I am struggling with five people.  Each has hurt me profoundly.  On the positive side, I keep the hurt to myself.  In other words, I have not reacted to these people, and I do not talk about these people or the situations with others.  While the storm of my struggles has not been manifested or visible to others, the maelstrom on the inside is not only pushing the ship of my life off course; it feels as though I am bailing water as fast I can, just to stay afloat. Although it may sound melodramatic, I'm trying to save my own life.

That last sentence may have triggered an inaudible gasp from the reader, or s/he may be clucking his/her tongue in reaction to my presumed lack of faith.

Let me first say (with no judgment or malice) that Christians struggle too.  In fact, I would say that we struggle more at times because the Enemy sees us, and any advancements we make in our relationships with Christ, as enemies, which I believe causes him to apply a full-court press.  He wants to move us  backward, and abandon Christ altogether, which, I'll be frank here, Satan, it ain't happenin.' Now, more than ever before, I spend time in the Word, pray, read, and study.

But I still struggle.

Case in point: I don't sleep well.  I just don't.  Ever since all this started, I awaken several times per night.  It used to be once.  Now, I'm up to two or three.  I know that it is at these times that I am most vulnerable, and Satan knows it.  I try to be prepared, but in my groggy state, I often fail and get sucked into despair and illogical thought.  Last night, I had a series of dreams regarding these people, and each left me feeling angry and afraid.

On Sunday, Vince Miller from the organization, Resolute, was at church to deliver a Father's Day message/challenge, but of course, the message was not only for men.  (Here is the link to the message if you would like to listen for yourself; it's worth your time.) Miller challenged us to read Colossians 3 every day for a month, so that is what I have been doing.

Today, verses 12-14 stuck with me: 'Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.  Bear with one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  Above all these virtues, put on love, which binds all these together in a perfect unity."

The line that jumps out at me is "Bear with one another."  The rest pesters me too, but that verse is what God wanted me to ponder today.  The phrase, "bear with me," means "ride this out with me" in our vernacular.  It says, "I will probably annoy the snot out of you, but stick with me. Don't leave me."

English teacher that I am, I went to the dictionary for a precise definition.  "Bear" means to carry, transport, convey, support, and hold up.  It's a tall order when you're annoyed, but let's be real, God does it with us every single day, and He has, and will, for an eternity.

This verse reminds me of the five with whom I am struggling and is a challenge as to how to deal with them.  They are immature and selfish, doing what they think/feel is best, regardless of how it is hurting and affecting others (me). Like everyone else in the world, they are operating via trial and error (or success); however, as is the consequence for all of us, the errors impact more than just their lives/them.

But according to Colossians 3, I am to "bear with them." As is the case with prodigals (and we are all prodigals), they have to find to find out for themselves just how much they don't know, and ultimately what they should know.  Until then, I "bear with them."

For how long? Based on Christ's example, I don't think there is a time limit.   Even at the very end of His physical life, He was able to "bear with" Judas, knowing full well of the betrayal.  He didn't kick Judas out, or "ghost" him, but He also didn't pretend that nothing had happened.  He called Judas out in front of the disciples, not condemning or belittling the person but recognizing the sin for what it was.

Likewise, in "bearing with one another," Jesus sought out/supported the undesirables.  He knew when people were ready to be "fed" and moved in.  How did He know? He paid attention and stayed in close relationship with His Father, who pointed Him in the direction He needed to go.

And when people weren't ready, He gave the disciples permission to move on. Matthew 10:14 "If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet."

Even this is still act of "bearing with." Even when people are not receptive or remain hurtful, we are to "bear with them" - patiently waiting (but not putting our lives on hold), avoiding the sin that accompanies frustration and hurt, concentrating our energy where Christ designates.  That's not to say we won't be back; it's just not time yet.

As usual, Christ's design is flawless.  The line "Bear with one another," precedes the command to forgive, as the two go hand in hand.  And if that's not enough, Christ completes the grand slam with the command to apply love, "which binds all these together in perfect unity."

I will admit that I struggle to forgive, particularly when the offenders (and in this case, it's true of four of the five) do not see anything wrong with what they have done or said.  That's a bitter pill to swallow.  But as can be seen, that which has been swallowed is affecting me only, not them.

It's all character development, people. I'm thankful that God cares so much about me that He wants to develop my character, but I feel as though I am getting more wrong than right with regard to the this current test.  As is the case with anything in education, the test is a tool to determine whether or not learning has taken place.  Please pray that I get "schooled" sooner rather than later.

The Mustard Seed

“Those who know your name will trust in you,
for you, Lord, have never forsaken
those who seek you.” Psalm 9:10

Years ago, I purchased two necklaces - one for a friend and one for me. The friend was undergoing cancer treatment, and I gave her the necklace to encourage her.

The necklace is very simple and not particularly beautiful (see pic).  It’s just a simple mustard-seed, which is a tangible representation of Matthew 17:20 - Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

The disease itself is horrific enough, but treatment and its ensuing symptoms are equally physically destructive.  The intangible struggles, however, are the most difficult. It’s a daily battle for a cancer patient to keep the faith and remain optimistic amid the constant physical debilitation.

Although something as paltry as a necklace does nothing to abate any of this, I just wanted my friend to have a tangible reminder of God’s power and faithfulness, and I wanted her to know that I was her faithful prayer partner in this battle.

My friend is still battling cancer, and I’m still wearing the necklace.  I still continue to uphold her in prayer, but now, the mustard-seed is a faith talisman for three instead of one.

My daughter is struggling, and as a result, I’m struggling too.

I know that nothing is impossible for God. I truly do have faith as small as a mustard seed, and so I continue to persist in prayer - for both of us - that “the Lord will hear when I call to him.” (Psalm 4:3b) because “everything is possible for him who believes” (Mark 9:23).

My daughter, who notices everything, asked me about the necklace, and I explained to her a while back why I wear it and that I will not take it off until my prayers are answered.

Stubborn or stupid? Faithful or foolish? Call it what you will, but “the Lord is far from the wicked, but He hears the prayers of the righteous” (Proverbs 15:29). For that reason, I gut-check motivation frequently. It is my heart’s desire to be in the center of His Will.

For now, I wait. . .and wear the necklace. It is assured that IT will wear out long before my faith does.

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart,
but it is the Lord’s purpose that
prevails.” Proverbs 19:21

I Got This

Psalm 34:15 “The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their cry.”

This was my devotion this morning. 

For the last couple of weeks in church, the pastoral staff has been challenging us to prepare and share one-minute testimonies.  Various people have been sharing these testimonies in church as examples, so good student that I am, I prepared one as well.  

However, this devotion reminded me of a powerful, real God moment that recently humbled me. “Humble” is one of those words that has a largely negative connotation in our current me-first culture, but in this case, humble, or in my case, to be humbled was exactly what I needed. If you have a minute or two, let me tell you what happened.

On January 14, 2018, our daughter, Erika, called from college  She wanted to come home.  School had been going fine, but her current city was too far away. At the conclusion of the call, we all agreed that she was going to come home ASAP.  We just had to tie up the loose ends on her end.  Just. 

That meant that we had to convince the university to let her withdraw without penalty.  We had to find a sub-leaser for the apartment lease she had signed for June, and we had to find a sub-leaser for her current apartment.  

That night, I brought it all before God in prayer, and as usual, I awoke in the middle of night, anxious with worry.  Again, I prayed in the wee hours.  

And in the darkness, I heard Him say - clearly and distinctly - “I got this.”  

Yeah, I know.  It seemed like an odd phrase for the God of the Universe to use as a response, but I tell you, I KNOW it was Him.  I have heard Him speak to me before, and it was the same voice. 

In the ensuing days, the first two issues were resolved fairly quickly and easily.  The third one was a little trickier.  The leasing company was not going to release Erika, and her lease was through May.  And to complicate matters, she was out of money.  January was paid for, but after that, she would need to cough up money pay rent for an apartment she would not be living in.  

Erika’s anxiety was mounting, so I told her about my middle-of-the-night experience with God.  Then, I relayed to her an anecdote I had read in Guidepost magazine about a woman’s answered prayer regarding a coat for her child.  The woman’s purpose in relaying the incident was to encourage readers to pray specific prayers.  

Even as I was narrating this all to Erika, I knew where God was taking me, and I felt a bead of sweat across my hairline.  He wanted me to tell Erika to pray a specific prayer, which, after some hesitation, I did.  

After we hung up, I said, Ok, God, I did what you asked.  Now, the ball is in your court.  Please, please follow-through. 

As the days went on, both Erika and I did what we could to market her apartment: we put ads on Craigslist and on-line social media sites, and kept in almost-daily contact with the leasing company, waiting for a sub-leaser.  We had several inquiries, but nothing seemed to be panning out.  Each day was increasingly discouraging.  The nearer we crept to January 31, the more panicky I became.  

On January 26, I wrote in my journal: This lease business needs to be done today.  I’m trusting that God will follow through on what He told me: I got this. I have been trusting all week, and the window keeps closing. . .I know I’m supposed to rest in Him. “Trying” is not the appropriate word.  It’s either yes or no.  I choose yes. My daughter chooses yes. This is a pivotal moment. God will show her how prayer is answered.  I do NOT want to presume God’s timeline or method, but I am presuming He will be true to what he said.

On January 30, I continued ripping up the worry that was desperately trying to take root inside: He told me, I got this, with regard to the lease issue. I heard it, so I have been working hard on not allowing panic mode to be my choice, but finding that peace is so difficult. I laid the groundwork for Erika too.  I told her to pray specifically.  It seems like a pivotal moment, and I pray (literally) that God will move and close it up.

By January 31, I was so discouraged.  Although I had not given up, I will admit that the flame of faith was barely flickering.  I was so sure that I had heard God’s voice.  Not only had I been wrong about that for myself, but now, I had involved Erika with my mistake as well.  

Then, at 3:00 p.m, I got a call from the leasing company.  A girl had come in, needed a place through May, and had signed the papers to take over Erika’s lease.  Although I was overjoyed, I felt horribly guilty as well. In that moment, I was so humbled by the kindness and provision of my Savior.  I was also reminded that He is God and does what He wants, when He wants - regardless of whatever timelines or dictums I fruitlessly try to impose.  

I wrote in my journal: I feel like such a failure for doubting. I was so angry  with God for dropping the ball, and here He delivered - right on time (His) - just like He said He would. He had told me, I got this, and I doubted Him. This clarifies for me that I did, in fact, hear His voice.  He does what He says He will do. He is on His schedule, not mine.  He honors prayers that are righteous, not selfish.  

Earlier in the week, I was particularly discouraged.  When I got into the car, I heard the song, Miracle, by Unspoken.  When I heard the line, “Don’t you give up on a miracle,” it caught my attention briefly, but I now know this was a message from God to me.  He made me attentive at the exact moment I needed to be.  That’s no coincidence.  Lesson learned - the hard way - as usual. So very grateful, and my challenge now is to spread the word.”

And so, that’s what I’m doing right now. As our family continues to pass through deep waters, I  boldly pray specific prayers.  I now know, firsthand, the power in doing so.  

Please don’t be misled; I am not trying to promote God as a giant Candy Man, who fulfills our every whim.  When our motives, heart, and requests align with His Will, He is faithful to respond. I John 5:14: “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” The answer might not be exactly what we expected (or when!), but it is always better than we could ever have imagined. 

If my testimony encourages you, great, but my message is every bit as much for me, to me. As I continue to pray my way through the difficulties and challenges of life, I know God’s got this.

Psalm 5:3 “In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.”

Join the Junk Drawer

Confession: I force myself to go to church these days.

I don’t want to go.

I could easily become one of the increasing numbers of people who choose to stay home on Sunday morning and watch _____(pick your favorite TV evangelist) while lounging in their pjs. But I don’t.  I keep forcing myself to get up, get ready, get in the car, and get through the front doors to worship with the crowd in real-time. 

I have heard all the reasons people offer as to why they don’t go to church – the place is filled with hypocrites. . .the teaching isn’t relevant. . .the music is too loud/too much/too outdated. . .I’m exhausted from working all week and need a day to myself. . .my kids have sporting events on that day.

While I could easily choose one of these, the real reason why I don’t want to go is because I don’t belong there. 

But then, nobody does.

In almost every home, there is a junk drawer.  It is a catch-all of useless, discarded, and broken crap.  The only thing that these items have in common is that someone deemed the item worth saving, even if the reason is unknown. 

Although it might sound sacrilegious, church is a giant junk drawer.  In spite of the best efforts of some to camouflage this fact, we are all broken pieces, who are currently, in this time and in this place, residing in the drawer together. And like the items in the junk drawer, Someone decided a long time ago that we were worth saving. 

For some, brokenness is physical – an illness or a disease.  For others, it is mental – depression or grief.  For still others, there is social, financial, or spiritual brokenness.  For most, it is a combination of factors. The bottom line is that brokenness is brokenness, and to the one who suffers, it is the worst thing in the world.

That’s true for me as well. My life is a total mess right now.  I’m not ready to get into specifics, but suffice it to say that just when I think it couldn’t get any worse, it does. . .over and over.  Although it is difficult, I clutch my broken pieces and cling to God through the Bible and prayer. 

Church is the last place I want to be, largely because of shame, disappointment, and guilt. Even if I have done a good job of trying to fill the cracks and polish the scuffmarks, people aren’t stupid.  They see; they know. 

But church is the only place I can be, solely because there is nowhere else to go.   

And although it is difficult for me grasp, if I feel this way, I know there are others just like me. 

Church is a place where the junk drawer is emptied. The useless, discarded, and broken pieces discover that they are not alone. While only God can restore, repair, and re-construct the pieces – to make them whole or the creation He intended them to be, it is enough to know that there are others like us.  And while we wait for the Creator to finish His masterpiece, church is a place where junk drawer inhabitants can support and encourage each other until healing and restoration is complete.

And that is why I force myself to go to church. 

Once I’m there, I understand that I am not alone in the junk drawer.   I really do belong, and it gives me a tender heart for the broken pieces that are currently outside the drawer.  Alone.  Feeling discouraged.  Without hope.  There is plenty of room in the drawer; it is up to me to keep my eyes open for cracks and scuffmarks. 

Don't Let Go

"The greatest challenge in receiving great things from God is holding on for the last half hour."

This was the last line of my devotional this morning. I'm trying to think of an appropriate time marker to delineate when the trouble in my life began: about two months ago . . .no, about six months ago. . .well, technically, two years ago. . .but of course. it was more like three, then four, then ten years ago.  I guess it's safe to say that trouble, challenge, and difficulty have been my closest partners throughout my entire life.  As is the case for anyone who breathes air, to be alive is to experience conflict.  No one is free from it. 

Likewise, everyone reacts differently to it.  Some fight.  Some drink.  Some withdraw.  Some succeed while others fail.  I think the best word to describe how I approach trouble in my life is absorb.  When something bad, stressful, or disappointing happens, I absorb all of the negativity.  Like a sponge, I suck up the emotions, the road blocks, and the problems and become heavy, logy, overloaded.  Eventually, I can absorb no more, and some of it begins to leak out.  Sometimes, the overflow leaks from eyes and flows alternately as a quiet stream or a wild flood.  Other times, my mouth is a fire hydrant through which all the stress blasts, and anyone in the closest vicinity is doused with an unexpected and surprising torrent.

The head-fake about trouble is that we think there will be an end to it.  We hope.  That is the capacity of humans: The inexplicable belief that it can't last forever.  But for as long as we are on this side of heaven, it will last.  And where one issue ends, another will take it's place. 

While that sounds ever-so-pessimistic, the good news is that none of it is random.  Coincidence is not a word in God's vernacular, nor should it be in ours.  When trouble begins, it is allowed because it is an integral part of a carefully-crafted training plan. 

Romans 5:3-4 ". . . because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope."

This verse helps me find peace and joy when I'm in the thick of it because it helps me realize just how important I am to God.  He allows this trouble in my life because I am worth it.  I am a special project.  He is so concerned about my character - who I am becoming in Him - that He allows this garbage to keep happening.  He has a special goal in mind - a particular job that He has in mind for me.  Therefore, it is important for me to keep training as preparation for what's to come.  I am such a hot mess, and yet, there is something in me that He sees, that He finds exceptional and valuable, and that's why He keeps pushing me. He needs just me to fulfill a special role He has in mind, and He won't settle for nothing than my best.  

And I believe - with my whole heart - that the end game is going to overwhelm me- in ways I would never have imagined.  The outcome will be greater and better than anything I could have dreamed up or reasoned with my limited humanity. Romans 8:28 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  God knows my heart; He knows who I truly am and what I truly desire, even when mixed messages and outward failures are the only thing that others remember or see of me.  

And yet, there are times when it feels as though it is too much.  In fact, it always feels as though it is too much, and I ask Him, "Are we there yet?  Is this the very worst it could be? Have we reached the bottom, so I can push off and reach the surface?"  Not surprisingly, He doesn't answer, and I don't think I really want to know anyway. I just do the only thing I can think of to do - the only thing that makes any sense: I hang on.  Tight.  

Let me explain.

Whenever trouble threatens to overwhelm me, I call to mind an image, a portrait that I have created in my head.  In the center of my painting is a large, ancient willow tree.  The trunk is so vast that I can only wrap my arms around a portion of it.  In this painting, I am a five-year-old version of myself, and as I play in the grass near the tree, a fierce storm erupts.  The sky turns black, and a vicious wind roars like a freight train.  Rain and hail sting my skin as I run for the shelter of the tree.  Once under the long branches, I grasp the trunk as tightly as I can, burying my face in the cool, dark bark.  Slowly the branches of the willow tree encase me, and I no longer hear or feel the effects of the storm as it rages.  I am safe. 

And so, I keep holding on. I have no idea how long the storm may last, but I feel safe and secure.  The bark may scratch my cheek, and my legs may ache from standing in one place, but I'm not going anywhere; this is exactly where God wants me.  If stay close to Him, He will see me through.

Hebrews 10:36 "You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what He has promised". . .and then some. 

Troubles with Transitions

**I haven't written anything for a long time.  Lots of life has been happening in the past two years.  I plan to start again - not sure if this is good or bad; you decide.

If I were to have a re-do, I have often said that I would give the concept of parenting longer and harder consideration.  Of course, I love my kids, but parenting has been THE most difficult, stressful, and painful task of my life. 

From the moment a mom gives birth to a child, she is already starting the separation process - not only the physical separation but also the emotional one.  I suppose to the average person, that makes no sense.  Logic says that the bonding process begins and continues for the rest of our natural lives, but logic and emotion rarely keep good company.

With regard to my son, I have experienced three seismic shifts.  The first occurred when he was around two - when his sister was born.  For the first two years of his life, I think it’s safe to say that Nick and I were pretty tight; we spent a lot of time together.  Nick was born in February, during one of the coldest winters I can remember.  As a newborn, he would fuss at night, presumably because he was cold.  The fussing would stop when I put him on my chest.  My warmth and beating heart would calm him down, and he would go right to sleep.  I know that was a large no-no, but it was one way for all of us to get some sleep. 

As a teacher, I had/have my summers off, so during his first summer of life, Nick and I went for morning and afternoon walks.  We lived a couple of blocks from a fish hatchery, so I put him in the stroller, and he, the dog, and I walked up and down the row surrounding the fish ponds.  Likewise, each night, Nick let me rock him to sleep.  To this day, there is nothing better than the weight of a sleeping child on one’s chest. 

Rock-a-bye sessions ended abruptly with the entrance of a baby sister.  It’s not that Erika was demanding to be rocked at night.  On the contrary, she wanted nothing to do with being rocked to sleep.  I’m not sure what happened, but what I do know was that something broke, and it couldn’t be fixed.

The next separation occurred around the time Nick was 14 years old.  That was the year a new youth pastor came to town.  Prior to that moment, our little family of four had spent a lot of time together - camping, biking, etc - all the “normal” things that family do.  But when Rocky showed up, Nick grabbed any and every excuse to spend time with him - whether at his house or at church.  To most, this would be considered a good thing.  At least, he wanted to spend time with a mentor with good values. 

For me, it signaled more grieving.  Of course, I could have been more firm about the situation - insisted that Nick spend more time with us and less with Rocky. But when the rubber meets the road, how much fun is it to try to function as a happy family when one of the members is sulky and protesting?  Therefore, we didn’t fight it - for good or for ill - and in the long run, Nick turned out to be a good kid.  Nevertheless, that was a distinct time when I heard another loud crack in the structure.

It’s been almost two weeks since my son got married, and it’s been a long, sobering two weeks.  The kids went on a week-long honeymoon and wanted to open gifts and cards the Sunday after they returned.  My husband immediately picked up the phone to call his mom and dad to come over as well.  I stopped him, and when he asked why, I said, “There are rules now.” 

At first, my husband was upset with me, but after a while, it dawned on him.  He understood that one of the new rules is that we can’t do the inviting when it comes to their home, and that’s just one rule. 

Another rule is that I can’t just text my son.  I can, of course, but typically he responds back to me from in a joint text with Candace. I have nothing to hide, but the conversation changes when both are included in the message.  The conversation is less relaxed, more filtered, and includes an unspoken distance that wasn’t there before.

The last vestiges of the infrastructure have crumbled, and now, there is a chasm that can’t be crossed. The newly-established wedding band on his finger is a sign of new construction. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I am happy for my son.  He is the most happy that I have ever seen him in his life.  He adores his wife, and it seems pretty clear that she is enamored of him as well.  As a newlywed often does, she gazes into his eyes with unabashed affection, and she finds any excuse to hug and touch him.  This is the natural order of things; this is how it should be.

My head knows this to be true, but my heart is struggling. 

And this is why I would have second thoughts about parenting if I were given a re-do.  At the risk of sounding melodramatic, the growing pains are often more than I can bear.  I suppose that with time, I will find a new normal, but for now, it’s a struggle.  I miss my son, but I know we can’t go back, only forward.