Sometimes, we have to practice what we preach and it's harder than we think it will be.
I lost my beloved Grandma on January 18, 2018. I got a call that day from my dad at 2:59pm that less than a week after getting a pacemaker, she had a brain hemorrhage and probably had hours left. By 5pm, I was in a rental car rushing to Iowa. This was my grandma who was like a second mom to me, and this was a shocking turn of events as she was "supposed" to be home that following weekend because she had done "so well" in her recovery. None of us were super worried about her because the doctors were happy with her progress. This wasn't the plan, she was supposed to be home in a couple of days. Now, I found myself sobbing and trying to get to her as soon as I could. I was hoping in my heart of hearts to get to say goodbye to this woman who had loved me and was so supportive of me throughout my life.
I was driving through the Dubuque area with all of its hills. I lost reception for over half an hour. I was thinking through what I wanted to say to my grandma. I really had no clear thoughts. Then it came to me, "Say hi to Jesus for me." There was that phrase, and then radio silence in my head and in my vehicle. About ten minutes later, I recovered reception to my cell and several minutes later, I received my dad's text..."Grandma passed." I cannot explain it, but I knew in my heart that she had. After I thought of that phrase, there was nothing else. I knew in my heart she was gone.
The next days were filled with planning of a funeral service that none of us had planned on. Days full of tears and hugs. I had volunteered (and the family agreed) to let me do my grandma's eulogy. It was an honor and I made it all the way through with only a mild break in the middle. In my own way, I got to "make it" to her bedside, even without officially making it. I wanted to honor my grandma, with all of her quirks and imperfections while still highlighting the big difference she made for many people, and with the reviews from church and family members, I believe I did.
But after all the "business" that had to be accomplished in terms of funeral preparations, we still have to go home. We still have to figure out what life looks like when the puzzle of our lives missing a piece. Studying to be a counselor, I've talked with many people about grief, including several talks with my grandpa this past week. He's an army man and loves planning and details, but being the great army man he was, he had to put his feelings to the side for the purpose of plans to get the job done. I talked with him about the importance of remembering that there is no "plan" for grief and its accompanying emotions. As we all had to go our separate ways and continue on in life, there will be minutes, hours and days where the grief will feel as real as it does now. It could be a sight, a sound, a smell that brings grandma's memory back to us and make the grief real all over again. What I told him was, "Lean in to the discomfort of grief and its accompanying emotions. Don't run away. Running away or suppressing them can make it worse." I also encouraged him to find his new "normal" and find things that bring him life and purpose. There is a balance between the aspects of life that he will have to find for himself.
But as I came home, I realized I needed to heed my own advice. I've been exhausted, teary and moody for the last three days in being home. I don't mean to be. Even reflecting on the funeral and eulogy as well as the life of my grandma and what she meant to me, means that my feelings are raw too. I took care of the "business" aspects of it too while in Iowa, and I came home and now need to decompress. I'm used to being a level-headed and kind individual on a lot of days, and I have been neither of those things since I came home. This is hard and humbling for me. I've had to ask for forgiveness and sleep more than normal. But, I also need to listen to my own advice. I need to embrace the discomfort of not "being myself" because suppressing it will make it worse for me too. I'm good at being busy and can use busyness to ignore my own feelings and needs. However, I need to allow the feelings to be what they are and not judge myself. I need to take a nap if I feel I need to. I need to accept that I am not okay right now and that in and of itself is okay. I will find my new normal, while still acknowledging that I've lost an important piece of my life when I lost my grandma. I don't know what grief will look like in the days to come, when it will hit, how hard the wave will hit, but I trust Jesus to carry me through the grief just as he carried my grandma up to his side. He is the One who carries us all and keeps us rooted in himself. While this wasn't my plan, it was always his plan, and I have to trust him in that too.
The biggest demonstration of grace has been given to me by my husband. I've needed naps. I've cried during my own birthday dinner over the smallest things. I've lashed out over nothing. Yet, he has been so kind. He has offered hugs and to take the kids. He has told me how much he loves me, while admitting that I am not acting like "myself" because he knows that grief is hard (he lost his own sister a year and a half earlier). He has spoken of how I saw him through the crushing blow of losing his sister and now he is here for me to do the same. This is the HARD stuff of marriage. When one falls apart, how does the other support? This is not the stuff of fairy tales. This is not happily ever after. This is the nitty gritty of life, in the scary moments and the moments of great loss. The days where you don't recognize your spouse because they've lost themselves. When you say "for better or worse," there are guarantees that the "worse" days will arrive. This world is broken, it is broken by sin, ugliness, loss and loneliness. We will inevitably experience these things over and over again. This is why who we marry matters. It is easy to get caught up in butterflies and flowers when you're newly in love, but when the rubber of life hits the road, the foundation of friendship, trust and honor are the things that either appear or they do not. You find what your relationship is really made of, which can be a scary prospect. It doesn't mean that we always handle things right or well, but that there is effort made to pick up the other's slack when they are immobilized by life's pain and brokenness. With this in mind, I want to talk about these things with my daughters about their choice in a mate. When it all breaks down, who will be in your corner? Who will do their best to show you the grace you need when you aren't sure of what you need at all? These are important questions for them to ask themselves. I can't make their partner choices for them, but I do want to help them think about it well, if I can help. Their father is such a good example of what it is to catch the other when they fall. I pray my girls can find a man willing to go the extra mile to love and care for them when they experience grief and hardship. But today, I'm so grateful for a husband who has shown me more grace than I deserve, thus showing even more the power of the Cross and the forgiveness of Jesus.
I don't know where this road of grief will lead, but I trust that the God that led my grandma safely home will also continue to lead me through the purpose-filled life he has for me.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Parenting is Tension
There is a war that goes on inside of me in all facets of life, a tension between good and evil...of right and wrong...of Spirit and Flesh. It's hard. It's brutal. I've found that the area I become most aware of this battle in myself is with my children. They have their inner battle as well and sometimes it clashes with mine, and it clashes HARD!
The kicker is, it doesn't even have to be over big things. In fact, it is commonly over a build up of the small things. The defiant "NO" over dinner, coming out of the kitchen and finding one of my three-year-olds on our dining room table unscrewing the light bulbs out of the light fixture, the pee accident during the nap time, coming downstairs when my daughter takes too long to get her new underwear after the accident to find her having opened my Amazon package and messing with my TV remote, the sibling squabble over a blue stuffed teddy bear...it's the little things today. The little things that mounted into honestly not wanting to be around my kids or liking my kids today. I admit it. I really don't care to be around my kids today.
Of course, I put my big girl pants on and put dinner together amidst what felt like a million "MOM!" calls today. But I was curt, I was short, I was generally annoyed. I got to the point of seeing absolutely nothing good about my kids. When I realized I was spiraling, I went to the same questions and doubts that reside in the hearts of many moms. Am I a good mom? My kids don't mean to be so terrible, is this all my fault? If I parented better, they wouldn't be able to get up on tables without me noticing, right?! Am I failing my kids? I just need space from the insanity! I don't want to wound their sinful hearts with my own sin! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! I'm angry at them. I'm angry at myself. I get angry with life and just want to run away and hide.
My children would not be "rising up to call me blessed" today. Jeez Louise.
But then I think of something I heard from Paul David Tripp once. He says that God is committed to our process...our process of becoming more like Him. It takes time, it doesn't happen overnight. That process is where grace meets our lives. It meets us when our pain and sin are the deepest and the most real. One of my most raw places where God meets me is in the tension of the battle in my parenting. I have NO idea what I'm doing. I try to be consistent and kind, but it's days like today when I feel like I'm going to lose my mind where I remember how much I really don't have it together.
These kids were designed for me and me for them. In our flaw and in our strengths. They will bring out sin in me that I wasn't even aware that I had. They push me outside of my comfort zone. They lie to me. They try to cheat, steal and do all the things they want to do in their innate selfishness. I did not have to teach them how to be bad, they have that all down pat on their own. But, then again, so do I. It doesn't take work for me to be selfish, lazy or not engaged. It comes naturally to me to want to take the road of least resistance, to drop consistency because it is inconvenient, to just want to get mad over "sin management" in the situation, rather than helping my child examine their own hearts in many situations...because it's WORK! Sometimes I don't want to do the hard stuff because I want to just do me. I want to have my space, my time and not be bothered.
This tension between loving my children, needing some time and space, lack of self-awareness when trying to overcome negative emotions, between knowing what I should do and actually doing it is the most raw and real for me in parenting. It has exposed a level of weakness and anger in myself that I wasn't even aware was there. A level of frustration exists in me that brings me to my knees before my Savior. I have come to find that not only will God expose the sin weakness in my children to me, but it is so apparent to me that it's seemingly equally that God will expose my own sin weaknesses to me about myself through these children. They can make my typically calm, level-headed self disappear faster than I am aware of its disappearance. My agitation is ignited, at times, at lightning speed in ways no other human can provoke me.
My own sin grieves me today. Yes, I know my children are sinful and, yes, I do correct and train them as best and consistently as I can. But I find when I come to the end of tough times like this, that I'm upset and disappointed more in myself than in them. I have to own my sin. These tensions that arise as a parent are chances for me to reflect, grow in my knowledge of my own inclinations and be able to apologize to my young children. They are accountable for their own sin, but I am accountable for mine as well. They are not the source of my anger and irritation, my own sinful nature is. While it is NOT a sin to feel angry, agitated, overwhelmed, etc. it is those emotions that open the door to sinful thought processes and actions. I alone am accountable for these things. I am first and foremost accountable to God for them, even before my family. Repentance first belongs to him alone, but then I must own my mistakes, even to my small children. I should not have yelled at them for asking me simple questions just because I was agitated. I should not have just sent them to the other room just because I told them to "buzz off and give me my space" although not in those exact words. While space is good and inappropriate behavior is not good on their part, I'm accountable for my visceral reactions. Period.
And they need to hear from me that mommy makes mistakes too. Mommy has apologized to God first, and has come to them to ask for forgiveness too. This is God's grace in the middle of tension. It's all of our brokenness as a family (in the little and big things), kneeling before the cross of Christ and admitting once again how desperately we need him. If we are left to our own devices, we will fail.
When my children see reconciliation in the middle of brokenness and mistakes, THAT IS THE GOSPEL LIVED OUT IN FRONT OF THEM. This is what Christ did for us. He came down into the gook of my mistakes and yours, not with a shaking finger, but with a manger and a cross. He did for us what we could not do for ourselves. He restored the relationship. He is my example of what to do in these broken spaces. I am to embody what he has already done at Calvary. The work of reconciliation is part of their big process and part of mine. God is dedicated to our process of becoming more like him. I want to be dedicated to me own process AND theirs. Forgiveness and reconciliation not only need to be taught, but lived out. I am called tonight to do this with my kids and I will be called to do it again and again. I need not fear this process but embrace this chance to live the Gospel in the wake of my mistakes and theirs. We are all in this together.
The kicker is, it doesn't even have to be over big things. In fact, it is commonly over a build up of the small things. The defiant "NO" over dinner, coming out of the kitchen and finding one of my three-year-olds on our dining room table unscrewing the light bulbs out of the light fixture, the pee accident during the nap time, coming downstairs when my daughter takes too long to get her new underwear after the accident to find her having opened my Amazon package and messing with my TV remote, the sibling squabble over a blue stuffed teddy bear...it's the little things today. The little things that mounted into honestly not wanting to be around my kids or liking my kids today. I admit it. I really don't care to be around my kids today.
Of course, I put my big girl pants on and put dinner together amidst what felt like a million "MOM!" calls today. But I was curt, I was short, I was generally annoyed. I got to the point of seeing absolutely nothing good about my kids. When I realized I was spiraling, I went to the same questions and doubts that reside in the hearts of many moms. Am I a good mom? My kids don't mean to be so terrible, is this all my fault? If I parented better, they wouldn't be able to get up on tables without me noticing, right?! Am I failing my kids? I just need space from the insanity! I don't want to wound their sinful hearts with my own sin! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! I'm angry at them. I'm angry at myself. I get angry with life and just want to run away and hide.
My children would not be "rising up to call me blessed" today. Jeez Louise.
But then I think of something I heard from Paul David Tripp once. He says that God is committed to our process...our process of becoming more like Him. It takes time, it doesn't happen overnight. That process is where grace meets our lives. It meets us when our pain and sin are the deepest and the most real. One of my most raw places where God meets me is in the tension of the battle in my parenting. I have NO idea what I'm doing. I try to be consistent and kind, but it's days like today when I feel like I'm going to lose my mind where I remember how much I really don't have it together.
These kids were designed for me and me for them. In our flaw and in our strengths. They will bring out sin in me that I wasn't even aware that I had. They push me outside of my comfort zone. They lie to me. They try to cheat, steal and do all the things they want to do in their innate selfishness. I did not have to teach them how to be bad, they have that all down pat on their own. But, then again, so do I. It doesn't take work for me to be selfish, lazy or not engaged. It comes naturally to me to want to take the road of least resistance, to drop consistency because it is inconvenient, to just want to get mad over "sin management" in the situation, rather than helping my child examine their own hearts in many situations...because it's WORK! Sometimes I don't want to do the hard stuff because I want to just do me. I want to have my space, my time and not be bothered.
This tension between loving my children, needing some time and space, lack of self-awareness when trying to overcome negative emotions, between knowing what I should do and actually doing it is the most raw and real for me in parenting. It has exposed a level of weakness and anger in myself that I wasn't even aware was there. A level of frustration exists in me that brings me to my knees before my Savior. I have come to find that not only will God expose the sin weakness in my children to me, but it is so apparent to me that it's seemingly equally that God will expose my own sin weaknesses to me about myself through these children. They can make my typically calm, level-headed self disappear faster than I am aware of its disappearance. My agitation is ignited, at times, at lightning speed in ways no other human can provoke me.
My own sin grieves me today. Yes, I know my children are sinful and, yes, I do correct and train them as best and consistently as I can. But I find when I come to the end of tough times like this, that I'm upset and disappointed more in myself than in them. I have to own my sin. These tensions that arise as a parent are chances for me to reflect, grow in my knowledge of my own inclinations and be able to apologize to my young children. They are accountable for their own sin, but I am accountable for mine as well. They are not the source of my anger and irritation, my own sinful nature is. While it is NOT a sin to feel angry, agitated, overwhelmed, etc. it is those emotions that open the door to sinful thought processes and actions. I alone am accountable for these things. I am first and foremost accountable to God for them, even before my family. Repentance first belongs to him alone, but then I must own my mistakes, even to my small children. I should not have yelled at them for asking me simple questions just because I was agitated. I should not have just sent them to the other room just because I told them to "buzz off and give me my space" although not in those exact words. While space is good and inappropriate behavior is not good on their part, I'm accountable for my visceral reactions. Period.
And they need to hear from me that mommy makes mistakes too. Mommy has apologized to God first, and has come to them to ask for forgiveness too. This is God's grace in the middle of tension. It's all of our brokenness as a family (in the little and big things), kneeling before the cross of Christ and admitting once again how desperately we need him. If we are left to our own devices, we will fail.
When my children see reconciliation in the middle of brokenness and mistakes, THAT IS THE GOSPEL LIVED OUT IN FRONT OF THEM. This is what Christ did for us. He came down into the gook of my mistakes and yours, not with a shaking finger, but with a manger and a cross. He did for us what we could not do for ourselves. He restored the relationship. He is my example of what to do in these broken spaces. I am to embody what he has already done at Calvary. The work of reconciliation is part of their big process and part of mine. God is dedicated to our process of becoming more like him. I want to be dedicated to me own process AND theirs. Forgiveness and reconciliation not only need to be taught, but lived out. I am called tonight to do this with my kids and I will be called to do it again and again. I need not fear this process but embrace this chance to live the Gospel in the wake of my mistakes and theirs. We are all in this together.
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