Left Behind

As I write this entry, Fred is in Madison, Wisconsin.  Jedidiah and Anna are in Toronto, Canada.  Josiah is in Champaign, Illinois.  One daughter is in Ames, Iowa.  Micah is at ballet, and I am sitting in my car at the Marion Library, my home away from home.

I'm missing my family, and realizing that the season of life I have been dreading since the day I brought my firstborn home from the hospital, has finally arrived.  I probably should have developed some hobbies before now to make the transition a little less painful, however I am thankful for every second I've had with my family.  It's just hard to figure out what I'm supposed to do now. 


Left Behind

Each time I'm forced to say "good-bye"
My heart breaks a little more.
Another of my dreams will die
When you walk out that door.

If only wishes made it so,
You'd be right here with me.
But there are places you must go
That I will never see.

Life passes in a hurry.
Mine is more than half-way done.
These lines are getting blurry.
Being left behind is not much fun.

November 5, 2012
Marion Library

My Treasure

This was written on 9-24-12 at Dancer's Edge in Hiawatha, IA, after visiting one of my high school classmates last weekend.  I came away feeling like a failure until I remembered that I need to store up treasures in heaven.   

My Treasure

As you're looking down on me

From that high and lofty tower,

With your fame and hard-earned fortune 

And all your worldly power;

Don't pity me or be distressed

For what I might have been,

Or for the path I've chosen

To travel way back then.

I'm saddened that you'll never know

Priceless moments that you've missed...

First steps, first words, sweet baby smiles,

Hurts someone else has kissed.

Your house is filled with portraits,

Winning trophies everywhere.

Successes etched in marble,

But you were never there.

I don't need to carry photos - 

Memories play a special part.

This family is my treasure

Engraved forever on my heart.

Who Am I?

I wrote this in my car at the Marion Public Library on September 11, 2012, at 7 pm.

Since I spend A LOT of time waiting for Micah at her various extra-curricular activities, I've decided to use some of that time to attempt understanding this season of my life.  I'm struggling to re-invent who I am, or possibly re-discover who I used to be.

Learning to let go of my children has been a painful process, somewhat similar to the stages of dying:  denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  I seem to go back and forth between anger and depression most of the time.   However, my goal is to come to the point where I am able to accept that God is in control, and that He can work out this change for good also.  He is really the one who has taken care of my kids all these years anyway, not me.  I think He can handle it from here much better than I can. He doesn't ever grow weary.



Who Am I?


Fading fast -
Not going to last.

Needing hope -
Can't seem to cope.

Losing touch -
I miss so much.

Reaching out
So full of doubt.

Feeling pain -
There's so much strain.

I want to dance -
Give life a chance.

I want to sing -
Praise to the King.

I want to see -
Your will for me.

I want to try -
Before I die.

The time is now -
I don't know how.

I need strength and dignity -
To just be me...

Going Nowhere, Fast!

It's been a long time, but I guess I'll try my hand at putting my thoughts into words again.  Please bear with me...

I wrote this poem at Tucker Park in Hiawatha on August 15, 2012, at 8:00 pm.



Going Nowhere, Fast!

Caught in a fast revolving door,
Spinning round and round.
Don't think I can take much more -
Not knowing where I'm bound.

Yesterday things seemed so clear,
I thought I had a plan.
I need to stop and let You steer -
Not knowing if I can.

I'm too busy going nowhere,
With schedules to arrange.
Too tired to even really care -
Not knowing how to change.

I used to have so many goals
To do before I die.
But things keep falling through the holes -
Not knowing why I try.

The door is spinning faster still,
I need to be set free.
Turning round, I've had my fill -
Not knowing when You'll see.

I'm desperate, Lord, and so off-track.
Help me not to stray.
I'm searching for the best way back -
Yet knowing You're the way!

 

Mothers

This new exercise is going to be more difficult than it originally sounded. It's not that I can't think of anything to be thankful for this past week, but it's a little difficult to write an article that doesn't sound like a shopping list: This week I am thankful for................

Anyway, since I am a mother this may appear a bit biased, however, it seems to me that mothers should be right up there at the top of the list of what we're most thankful for. After all, if we're honest, who do we usually call when we need something? Who do we count on for help or even just a listening ear? Who loves us no matter what? OK guys, I understand that fathers are important too, but we'll talk about that another day.

This week I was thinking how sad it will be someday when I don't have my mom to talk to. She has been a sounding board, a friend, a counselor, and a confidante over the past fifty-one years. She's laughed with me, cried with me, made sacrifices for me, and wanted the best for me. I'm just beginning to understand all she's invested and contributed to my life.

You might think this is silly, but here's a small example of how my mom is still a constant source of help and information. Last weekend while the kids were putting up the Christmas decorations, I decided to prune some of our house plants. When I went to wash my hands, I noticed that I couldn't bend one of my fingers. There was a hard callus on the inside joint of my ring finger that hadn't been there before. I was a little worried that I was having some bizarre allergic reaction to the plants. I immediately thought of calling my mom -- not a doctor, not the poison control center.

Just talking with mom somehow calmed my anxious heart, even when she didn't have any answers. As I was describing my symptoms over the phone, one of my children overheard and asked if I'd touched anything in the trash. Apparently there was a piece of paper with a blob of super glue that had been thrown away. When I threw some of the plant clippings in the trash, I must have gotten the glue on my finger. Needless to say, I was relieved, and my mom and family had a good laugh. I had envisioned my whole hand turning leprous.

I haven't always been thankful for my mom. There were many years that I blamed her for most, if not all, of my problems. After all, she was the one who divorced my dad and turned my world upside down. Every day that goes by brings a little clearer understanding of why she made some of the choices she made. I'm not saying she always made right choices; I'm just saying that I can understand the difficulty of her job as a mother a little more clearly the longer I try to do that job.

So if you can, hug your mother and tell her thanks for all she's been and done for you. Call her just to say "hi", or send her a note, even if you don't need anything. I promise you, that will make her day. And to all of you moms out there who might be feeling unloved or unappreciated, try to remember what the world would be like without us. There is no higher calling.........

Something Different

Even though I still think it's important to "look at the big picture" in life, I'm going to try something different. While considering eternity, I often miss the marvels of today. I'm going to attempt to think of one thing each week that I am thankful for. Granted, my posts may not be that often, but I am hoping this exercise will create in me a new heart.

Today I am thankful for my family. We are a motley crew, and a bit dysfunctional, but we care about each other. I could not have picked a better bunch, nor could I imagine life without any one of them................