Totally Teens

**As a side note...Thanks to each one of you for your encouraging comments on my last post. I appreciate your kind words greatly!**



It's here! The event that I pondered many years ago, is about to take place! This Saturday will mark our passage into a household occupied by 4 teenagers! My youngest turns 13 on Saturday. Hard to believe! And a bit overwhelming! Her birthday marks the beginning of "birthday season" for the kids, so their soon-to-be ages will be 13, 15, 17 and 19. Wow, that looks so old when written out!

I can still picture my little one prancing down the street at the age of 2, decked out in her little tutu, wearing fairy wings. She was so little then. And now she is getting so "big". She is still the smallest, but her recent growth spurt is challenging that. I think I soon will be the shortest in my family!

With the dawn of this new age of total teenagers, I am excited, energized, overwhelmed and a little melancholy. I can so clearly remember when they were kindergarten age and younger, and I would daydream about the day they would all be in their teens, driving, dating, working; what would that look like? What would they look like? And now, to be actually living it...it is a bit mind-boggling. I can't believe my "baby" is 13. How can it be 13 years since I was last pregnant? That makes me sound...old...or at the very least...older! That came quickly--the transition from being one of the moms with young children, to one of the 'older moms' who has big kids. Yikes! This time thing is a bit frightening!

Those days when my children were little were a bit frightening as well. When Miss S, the youngest, was born, my oldest was in kindergarten! We brought her home to 3 siblings ages 5 and 3 years, and 20 months. I have to admit, there were days I thought I should be taken away in a straight jacket, but at the same time, this was life. This is what we did. We figured out our routines, or managed to find routine in the chaos. Others would look at our family and be overwhelmed for us. I'm not sure that was such a help, but at least there was some empathy for my husband and I being out numbered by 2 girls and 2 boys!

It was always clear to us that the Lord gave us each of our babies. Let's just say His planning superseded our planning! But of course, there were always those that felt the need to state their opinion about the addition of another child to our household. I remember one mother from the kindergarten class, when observing my protruding belly and eminent delivery, indignantly stated, "don't you have enough?" Then of course there were others that felt we were socially irresponsible for having 4 children when 'the world was overpopulated as it was'. And still others that challenged the notion that it was loving to bring children into such a corrupt and evil world. Ah, yes, the obnoxious input from those who feel the need to voice their opinion when not solicited, and for some reason think their opinion really matters anyway! (Please pardon my little ranting--I guess these "kinds" still bother me!) I'm glad I learned to tune these unwanted voices out a long time ago. It took me to the 4th child to do it...but I eventually learned to do it.

Today, as we embark in this new phase of life, I'm aware there are still "voices" giving their input; some from older parents who have navigated these teenage waters previously, others from households with far less inhabitants, and still others from those that have 'had it all', raised "perfect" kids and seem to think everyone should do it their way. I find it odd that I still must sift through unsolicited input tossed our way. (Okay, one more little ranting...I don't think kids fit a cookie cutter. Sure there are some principles that hold true, and it is smart to seek out wise counsel, but to think that one method or one "system" will work on all children is ridiculous. We found out long ago that we had to use different forms of discipline on each our kids. What would work with one child, would not work on the other. For example, "A" thought is was torture to have "time outs" and be separated from friends, while we discovered "C" loved "time outs" and the solitude. We would have to coax him out of his room!) Okay, ranting done...

I find it interesting that at a time when I thought life would be less busy, it is, if anything, more busy. At a time when I thought I would be wanting to be out of the house more and working full-time, the desire to be home more and working less is increasing! The need to be available seems much more critical now than in previous years. Everyday these teens encounter outside pressures, temptations, challenges and demands that are beyond what I was confronted with when I was their age. In the midst of a household that at times seems to have a revolving door, I find the need to be a calming presence, a "constant", so our teens can feel they have a safe refuge or as Dr. Phil would say, "a soft place to land."

You may have heard the sentiment that moving from one phase of childhood to another is not necessarily better, but "different." Well, I'd have to say that's true. In fact, I'm finding that reality for me is that these teen years are far more demanding than the earlier toddler years were. The long-term emotional toll of choices made or potential life-altering consequences of poor decisions are far greater. Instead of being fatigued by the demanding physical activity of a 3 year old, I'm fatigued from talking, engaging, discussing and arguing with a 17 year old. I still suffer from sleep deprivation from time to time as well. This time it isn't due to a sleepless, crying baby, but rather the absence of a child who is out with her friends, or the one driving home and I'm wondering if he'll make curfew, or the one who I haven't received a phone call from letting me know of his overnight plans with a college friend.

But it is all so wonderful at the same time. At times I am overwhelmed with the sheer joy of being around these young adults. "And we get the privilege of being their guardians?!" Wow! Each is such a wonderful human being; fun, joy-filled, compassionate, loving, giving, smart. I know I'm biased...but really, they are pretty spectacular! What a joy!

On Saturday when we sing "Happy Birthday" to the new teenager, I think I'll be singing a little praise song...thanking the Lord for this joyfully challenging time in life, and praying for his continuing help and guidance in the process!

Happy Birthday to us!

Balcony Buddies

Arriving late to church after dropping off my girls at their cousin's house for a birthday/slumber party extravaganza, I headed up to the balcony area. I suppose if I had really tried I could have found a very accessible seat on the main floor, but I was much more in the mood for sitting alone, away from others--very much in the 'sneak in and sneak out' mode.

I almost ditched church altogether thinking I wouldn't make it there in time "to do any good", but as I approached the exit off the freeway, I went for it and arrived a not-so-stylish 35 minutes into the service. With my husband gone for the weekend at a retreat, and all the kids gone at various activities, I was solo tonight and, honestly, enjoying the solitude. I thought I would carry that theme on through church and be "solo" and go undetected; candidly speaking, I was not wanting to have to chit-chat and engage in conversation with anyone. I was really in the mood for removing myself from people and did my best to make that happen.

Reaching the top of the balcony stairs I was pleased to look over the seating and see it was sparsely occupied. "Great" I thought, "this should be easy; I can have a comfortable 5 chair radius around me...no one will be able to step into my space." I did notice two men, sans wives, sitting in the same area, though apart as well. Obviously they were "solo" tonight as well and also had a good chair radius around them. Although I knew both of them, I didn't feel the need to invade their space, so I gladly occupied my own cocoon--like the pastor talked about tonight!

The service was good and thought-provoking. As usual, lots of poking into places in my spirit that need to be examined and surrendered or called into action. After the pastor gave the benediction I busied myself with getting my things together, I thought perhaps I could still escape without having to talk to anyone. But then, suddenly, my two balcony buddies approached from two different rows, paused and independently talked to me! Uh, oh. I was detected!

First, Mr. B, a fellow blogger and friend, addressed me. He told me that he and his wife, K, were glad I was a part of the blogging community. He went on to make some more encouraging comments about my writing. We then talked some about things he had shared in a blog and how the message from the pastor was challenging, confusing, difficult...everything rolled into one. I have to say, I was so encouraged. You see, unbeknownst to B, this last week has been a weird week for me in regard to blogging, life, direction...everything. I know, in the big scheme of things, blogging is not all that important, but writing publicly has been a fear-inducing thing for me. It hasn't always been that way, but it seems to be a recent target of spiritual attack. I've been plagued with doubts, fear, the 'what-makes-you-think-you-have-anything-to-write-about-that-matters?' club. In fact, the thought that has been trickling through my mind lately has been, 'just give it up...it's not for you'. Yet, I really feel I should be blogging for my growth and perhaps for the encouragement of others...so I continue...but not without an internal battle happening.

I was so blessed by his words of encouragement to me. How did he know that this week was filled with uncertainty and spiritual taunting? He didn't...but He was willing to be available and used by the Lord. He blessed me and encouraged me, perhaps at a time when he was needing that himself.

Next, Elder R was standing there and proceeded to ask how I was and how the rest of the family was doing. I haven't seen R in quite a while so we caught up briefly. I talked about this stage of life we're in and it seems so transitional and uncertain right now. R proceeded to encourage me and share about this phase of life that he and his wife had already been through years earlier, but acknowledged it is a hard time. He then gave encouragement about God's faithfulness and preparation even in periods of time like this, and that when God seems most quiet that often, this is when He's the most at work in our lives.

Again, how did R know that I was needing that encouragement and truth spoken into my life at that time...at a time I was hoping I wouldn't have to talk to anyone? He didn't, but like B he was available, and listening to the Spirit, willing to step into my world, my space.

As I departed church, I stopped and talked with several others who God put in my path, a couple of whom I had not seen for quite some time. It was a blessed evening of engaging, connecting and relating--not being alone--but reaching out to others.

I'm thankful that God did not allow me to be disengaged tonight, but rather entered "my" space, "my" safe 5-chair buffer. I'm thankful for my two balcony buddies that the Lord placed in my life tonight to encourage me and be Jesus to me, and to teach me the importance of connecting with others. Had they not been willing to be available and used by the Lord, I would have missed out on a big blessing and lesson. Thanks guys!

"Tough Questions Welcomed Here"

I'm not wanting to be morose or morbid, but life seems to be filled with a lot of death these days. This past Saturday morning I was in the car, taking a basket filled with blooming and green plants, to a family that had lost their father and husband to cancer. As I drove in the bright spring sunshine, I was thinking about the family gathered together that morning and imagined what their conversations were about. I thought about the questions they may be asking one another and asking God, "why did Dad die? Why so young? Why wasn't he healed? Why? What will life be like beyond this point in time?"

I also think of the young couple who recently said goodbye to their little girl after battling cancer at the age of 2. How can this make any sense. How can this be God's best? Why? How?

I can remember this strange other-world of the bereaved where daily life seems to be suspended in time and there is no "normal" to routine or daily rituals. There is that brief moment in the morning when waking up and your mind hasn't fully clicked into gear with reality--when life seems good--and then a heaviness blankets everything with the realization that your loved one has died. It is a strange time of preparing for the funeral; taking care of service details, receiving visitors, seeing family members from out of town, sampling volumes of meals brought by friends, accepting flower deliveries from those thinking of you, crying with others who share your grief. When my father died I know I asked questions; I asked God questions, "Why so young? He was only 38? What do we do now? Does God really love me? Doesn't He know we need our father? How can this be God's best for those of us left here on earth? How do we navigate this pain and grief? What is life going to be like from here on out?"

As I made my way to deliver the flowers on Saturday, I drove through an area of town I hadn't been in for a number of years. I drove past the neighborhood where a friend of mine had once lived. "Barb" and I had met at church in the youth group and were buddies. We sang in a small ensemble together, spent some weekends together..."hung out" with each other like teen girls do. We lost touch during our senior year in high school as Barb had begun attending a different church with her family. We ran into each other just prior to our freshman year in college. She was attending the community college and I was attending a school an hour away from home.

It was an early spring morning my freshman year when my mom called me at my dorm letting me know that Barb had been murdered the night before while leaving a night class at the community college. She had been brutally assaulted and beaten. I found myself asking those questions again. "Why God? Why Barb? Why in this way? How will her parents and family survive this? Why?"

As I continued to drive past Barb's neighborhood and thought about her, I drove by a small neighborhood church. It was quite classic looking really; painted white, complete with a steeple on top. The little sign in front said, "Tough questions welcomed here."

I had to stop and think about that for a minute. This was not the traditional signage you see in front of a church. Usually there is a "Welcome!" sign, or "Hello Neighbor, Come Join Us!" But here was a church announcing they weren't afraid to wade through the tough questions with anyone walking through the doors. They were announcing that they wanted to be Jesus to the world. It was is if Jesus himself was saying it, inviting everyone to come and ask the tough questions, saying it's okay.

On the heals of celebrating Easter, I have been especially touched by the humanity of Christ. Not only his physical pain, but his emotional pain; the range of emotions he endured and understands with us--sorrow, grief, loneliness, anguish.

Scripture tells us that when Jesus went to the garden of Gethsemane to pray, he said, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." (Mathew 26:38) And then when he was praying, knowing that in a few hours he would be arrested and crucified, He asked God tough questions. He asked, "Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." (Mathew 26:39) And then on the cross dying a painful death and being separated from the Father, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mathew 27:45). Jesus asked tough questions, yet he submitted to the bigger plan that God had. Out of love, he chose to die. He trusted God that He could make sense of things, even if there was intense pain involved. Of course Jesus was fully God as well as fully human, so we can't make direct comparisons, but we are told that he has endured everything that we endure and He understands.

I find comfort in knowing that God did not scold Jesus for asking questions; for asking, 'is it possible to not do this?' Jesus felt like he was abandoned and ached with grief and sorrow, asking God, "why?" And again, God did not punish Him for asking, or accuse him of not believing or trusting.

As we encounter death and grief, it seems we are invited even given permission to ask the tough questions. God understands. He grieves with us. (He cried when Lazarus died because of the great sorrow of those around Him.) Our journey of faith is to trust him deeper and believe that He sees the big picture. We may never understand why or what good can come from it, but we can rest in knowing that God can and does. What's more, is that we have the assurance that He can make something good of a horrible thing...He only is able to redeem such loss, or the results of such evil.

I guess what this speaks to me is that God understands the pain of separation when a loved one dies. He understands our need to ask questions and try to make sense of something that doesn't make sense--something that is foreign to us, something painful. I'm thankful for a loving Father that will embrace us and say, "Tough questions welcomed here." I'm thankful and have faith that He gives peace and grace that passes understanding.

Creative Worship

I was recently in a brainstorming group with several other creative types. Every one's artistic expression and medium of choice was different, but the desire to create and be creative was the same.

It was a very energized session, all meeting together with the director of the creative arts department at our church. One of the things that made this such an enjoyable morning was the energy that welled from the group. Ideas were plentiful. If you want a great brainstorming session, invite highly artistic people to get together and throw out ideas without limits! It was fun. At one point, Jenn, the director tried to wrangle things back in and posed a question that was something like, 'these are all great ideas, now how do we implement them?' A dead silence fell over the group. Then a burst of laughter. As one of the attendees pointed out, this was a group of artistic people, not administrators...we can come up with the ideas, but someone else needs to carry them out!

I'm excited that our church is working to create a venue for creative expression and worship. As a young girl, I grew up going to church. In one of my first blog posts Duck, Duck, Odd Duck, I talked about feeling like an "odd duck" at church. Not only was my family economically different than the majority of the church, but I realize I often felt like an outsider in that I didn't encounter a lot of other kids who were like me, the "arts & crafts" type. I'm sure they were there, but there wasn't a way for us "find" one another and experience that kind of camaraderie. As in most churches at that time, creativity and worship were limited to singing and music. There was choir or a singing group of some kind, but that was the extent of any creative outlet provided by the church. (Oh, I do remember a poster contest for camp. The directive was to create a poster to spark interest in the church summer camp. The first place winner received money to go to camp. I think I won a pencil sharpener! Definitely not my area of artistry!)

I was a child that always needed a craft project. Yes, NEEDED. Something, anything--it didn't matter what the medium--my hands ached with the need to be busy "making" something. As I created, a calm would come over me. My mind was free to play, to think, dream...ponder. I also enjoyed writing but saw this as a separate part of me. Creative writing was always one of my best subjects in school along with math. I actually once won a city-wide essay contest about "The Environment". (I received more than a pencil sharpener--a $25.00 savings bond!)

I'm still very much that same creative person today. This creative angst is part of me; who I was created to be, placed there by God, the ultimate creator. As a child, I hadn't made the connection between this drive inside of me and worshiping God. The drive goes beyond a simple desire to have an activity. It is such a strong compulsion that to not create is dishonoring to God. Since I am created in His image, and he intentionally designed me this way, when I create it is an act of worship, reflecting God's own nature. It all makes sense.

Recently while surfing the Internet and doing some further reading on creativity, the arts, worship, church culture and spiritual gifting, I came across the article, Sacred Creativity: Living Creatively In The Image Of God written by Dan Witt. This is really great! I've linked it here for your reading. Please take time to read it. Everyone can relate to this whether you're a computer programmer, gardener, teacher, writer, etc.

The beautifully freeing thing about creativity is that there is no one "right" way to be creative! Most of us will never be a genius visual artist with the skill of Michelangelo (I bet he got more than a pencil sharpener!), or that famous exceptional singer, or the writer of an award-winning novel; or the Oscar-winning actor, or the host of a gardening show on television; yet, our impact on the Church and in our community can be profound. By doing what we were created to do and be, by worshiping God in our creativity, we honor Him, we show others God's character, we enable others to worship deeper and to encounter God in perhaps a new and meaningful way.

I think my next post will be about building up and encouraging one another in creativity. I recently read an article in "Contemporary Christian Music" magazine about "artists". A singer/songwriter was quoted as saying that it seemed most creative types had some real areas of insecurity. Hmm. Let's ponder that for a bit, shall we?!

Easter Ponderings

This is the third attempt I've made in as many days to sit down and actually write something! I'm not suffering from writer's block, but rather writer's overload. Too many things swirling through my mind as of late. I'm having a difficult time paring things down to digestible sizes and it continues to come out jumbled! Ugh! So, I've decided to give a "Reader's Digest" version of life these days beginning with the Easter celebration of this past week.

Easter was especially nice this year, perhaps because I was more involved in the services at church this weekend than in recent years. I am one that would much rather participate in the production of an event than be an on-looker (goes along with my learning style--hands on, etc.) , so being a "reader" at the Good Friday services was a good kick off to the Easter services. The Good Friday service was very well planned and orchestrated. I know, personally, each service impacted me and I would say from observation that many were personally engaged in a new way. It was a profound evening.

Going forward, my husband and I sang on worship team this weekend for three of the five church services celebrating Christ's resurrection. That was a pure joy! It was just one on-going celebration all weekend long. I think I could have sung a few more times...it was exhilarating each time singing songs about His victory over sin. I wanted the party to go on a little longer! He is risen! He is risen indeed! (And I'm so thankful!)

Leading up to this resurrection weekend, the worship department at church has provided a prayer labyrinth. This was the 4th year for it, I believe. What a wonderful time to refocus and rest in the Lord. If you ever have opportunity to do this....DO!

Easter afternoon was very non-traditional. No big family dinner to attend. We're finding that more often than not, our holidays are becoming this way. We're in a transitional place right now with our extended families going different directions, both of our moms being ill, and our own kids often going different directions. Speaking of kids, they did inquire if I was still giving them Easter baskets and were greatly relieved when I told them I already had them prepared! This is a tradition that I'm thinking they'll never outgrow!

Many have asked about our moms and how they are doing. My husband's mother has now moved into an assisted care wing of a hospital on the coast. She will be there permanently. She has her good days and bad days. Half of the time she is very lucid and has quite a bit of energy, able to get around with her walker and be self-sufficient. Other days she exhibits a great amount of dementia and refuses to eat. Her weight has dropped so significantly that in many ways, this currently is her greatest health threat. She is fully recovered from a previous virus, and now her medical needs just arise from declined general health and age-related issues (she is going to be 88 this year I believe).

My mother is nearly 20 years younger than my mother-in-law. She is fighting cancer and has been undergoing chemotherapy since November. (Incidentally, she is having the same chemotherapy regimen that Lance Armstrong underwent.) Mom's response to chemo is pretty miraculous. The option was presented to her as a last ditch effort as they were pretty certain her type of cancer (multiple tumors throughout her liver and a few in her pancreas) would not respond to chemo. She is going against the odds! Her tumors are shrinking, her energy is increasing, and many of her liver and blood chemistry levels are falling within normal levels again! The battle these days is getting Mom to gain weight. She has lost too much weight and, not unlike my mother-in-law, this is presently her greatest health threat.

There...I think that helped...my head feels a little less cluttered. You've been brought up to date, and I think I've managed to clear a few spaces in my brain so that perhaps my next attempt to write will be a bit more cohesive! It's all good! Enjoy your week!