Too many things have taken up pondering space in my brain. To write out such ponderings would be laborious and borderline inappropriate. (Okay, not even borderline....one does need to have boundaries.) Perhaps one day I will be able to share more openly about these deeper ponderings....but for now...they need to remain in my brain.
For now, we'll keep things on the "safe" side and only openly ponder about things like the kids and us settling into our home. Suffice it to say we are continuing to enjoy our home. Our garage sale pile is growing, the boxes are slowly diminishing and ideas for room colors are coming together. We still can't quite believe we are so blessed that we get to live here. It really does feel like a refuge of sorts and has such a welcoming, calming atmosphere. We are so blessed.
The kids are all doing great. Even beyond great. We are so proud of each of them. It has been a joy to see our sons (20 and 18) grow in maturity as they make difficult choices about relationships, goals, service, and on and on. They know they have our complete support in their decisions and admire them for their zeal for truth, compassion towards others, and desire to be obedient to the Lord in all things. Perhaps what is most touching is the the humility I have seen in my sons at this age. It amazes me.
My girls (16 and 14) are preparing for the quickly-approaching first day of school. Both will be at the same high school this year, junior and freshman respectively. (It will be a new "first" for us--two kids out of high school, two in high school. ) Our Junior is part of the 'crew' that will be welcoming the incoming freshman on their orientation day. She has been having training this past week and is armed with lots of crazy songs and ice breakers. She'll be great at helping these newbies feel comfortable. Our freshman can hardly wait until the first day of school and has her outfits planned out for the first week! She is SO ready to be in high school...Let the fun begin!!
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Unpacking
Wow it has been quite a while since I last posted. I try to post at least once a week...but not lately...just not enough hours in the day. I am still in the midst of unpacking boxes into our new home. I wish it were only boxes, but settling into a house has also required a lot of unpacking of emotions. It has surprised me a little bit. As we placed my grandmother's dining room table into our dining room, the same one that used to sit in my mother's dining area, a flood of tears broke through my emotional barrier, and when choosing where to hang the picture that had once hung above my mother's bed, those familiar feelings of sadness were present.
Somehow, all the household boxes will get unpacked and their contents will find a new home, of this I have no doubt. Whether it be garage sale fodder, a Goodwill store donation, or a cozy new drawer or cupboard I am determined that everything finds a place to be so that clutter is diminished, junk is purged, or good furniture finds a new home that can be appreciated by new owners. However, the emotional boxes that have followed us are still looming large. I'll admit I have peeked into several of these boxes, only to quickly put the lid back on and close it up tightly so I can conserve my energy and get the more immediate tasks done, such as settling into the house, changing our address with everyone, getting the girls registered for school, and on and on. But I know the day of unpacking those boxes marked "Delicate--Handle with Care" is getting nearer. I'm speaking of the boxes that contain every tear, every heartache, every trial of the past year.
I know I've written about it before and you're all probably thinking 'enough already!' but the pace of this last year has truly taken a toll. We're all feeling it. It is more pronounced now that we have a place to call our own and we're slowing down a little bit. As I catch up on things I've let go undone for months I'm seeing how, despite thinking I was holding it all together pretty good, I was on the edge of coming completely unglued. (This was confirmed by a good friend who gave us wise counsel and said that we shouldn't be surprised if it takes us another year to recover from everything, especially now that we're in our house and have a safe refuge of sorts.) It truly is only because of God's grace that I am still functional and not depressed, a little more overweight perhaps (because of my poor stress coping skills) , but not physically fatigued or distressed.
Back to the boxes. I am finding that my memories of Mom are becoming more pronounced. Not the memories of healthy mom or relationship (which had its ups and downs) but rather the images of sick mom and the few weeks prior to her death when my siblings and I were caring for her 'round the clock; these have been a bit troublesome. I remember the weight of the care-giving that was required, the fatigue from those days, and the emotional exhaustion that accompanied it. Trying to figure out where to store these pictures in my mind and all that comes with them is proving to be quite the task. I know I'm "normal" (again, subjective), so I'm not worried I'm flipping out or anything like that, this is probably the right time to process so many of these things that there just haven't been time to process. But still, it takes work.
I've talked with my siblings about that month and half before mom died, and they are all experiencing similar things. It was not a "good" time, and I'll even take the risk of saying it was not a time when we felt especially protected by grace. Yes, the Lord was very present in the details and enabling us to be able to take care of mom. He arranged schedules and details perfectly; he provided all the finances through gifts from others so that there was no financial strain on our families, and he gave us each the ability to do what was needed to be done. When I say we didn't feel the protection of grace, I mean that we didn't feel protected from feeling all the real emotional pain that comes from doing something like this. We still felt the stretch and pulling, the grief, the doubts, the real physical fatigue and emotional exhaustion. I think we (as believers in general) can lull ourselves into thinking that when grace is present, we won't hurt or feel the pain, or even the anger that accompanies these life situations; that somehow all these emotions will magically be lessened somehow. Perhaps, the reality is that we can't fully comprehend how much our pain and suffering has been lessened because of God's grace and mercy. I'm understanding better that this experience was a bit like exercise. For my siblings and I, He proved himself to be "enough" all the way to the point of where we felt we couldn't give or do any more, stretching us further (like when we do physical exercise) and showing us that we could do it with His help. We didn't get to the point of where it was too much--although there were times when we felt like it--we still made it through, we still did what was needed to be done, and we don't have any regrets. We know we were there for Mom 100% and couldn't have given any more than what we did. But the reality of it is that there is residue. There are the memories--mental images, smells, feelings--that linger. There is nothing pretty about someone dying from cancer. No matter how much you try to dress it up in a spiritual bow, even with the hope of Heaven just beyond our fingertips, the process of getting there can be pretty horrendous. And these are the fragile boxes I'm left with.
I think back to the morning when Mom died as well, and, for whatever reason, I was the only one chosen to be present for that moment. I had heard stories about other people seeing Jesus, or angels just before they took their last breath, or having a moment of clarity, or something that gave onlookers a glimpse into Heaven. (I'll confess, my sisters and I had been praying that the Lord would give us a glimpse; just something that would let us know He was present, that Mom was truly being ushered into his presence...just something.) But nothing. The last few moments of her life were labored and ugly. Disturbing even. Again, more unpacking of fragile images, waiting to be sorted and stored in a safe place.
I know, this is a downer of a post...sorry. But this is my real life, and real life as a follower of Jesus. Things aren't neat and tidy. I do believe that we can learn from everything that the Lord allows into our lives, whether it be something more about ourselves, or about Him, or how to be more like Him. I believe that nothing is wasted, and this is what gives me hope. My prayer is that I'm a good steward of those things He has entrusted to me.
Somehow, all the household boxes will get unpacked and their contents will find a new home, of this I have no doubt. Whether it be garage sale fodder, a Goodwill store donation, or a cozy new drawer or cupboard I am determined that everything finds a place to be so that clutter is diminished, junk is purged, or good furniture finds a new home that can be appreciated by new owners. However, the emotional boxes that have followed us are still looming large. I'll admit I have peeked into several of these boxes, only to quickly put the lid back on and close it up tightly so I can conserve my energy and get the more immediate tasks done, such as settling into the house, changing our address with everyone, getting the girls registered for school, and on and on. But I know the day of unpacking those boxes marked "Delicate--Handle with Care" is getting nearer. I'm speaking of the boxes that contain every tear, every heartache, every trial of the past year.
I know I've written about it before and you're all probably thinking 'enough already!' but the pace of this last year has truly taken a toll. We're all feeling it. It is more pronounced now that we have a place to call our own and we're slowing down a little bit. As I catch up on things I've let go undone for months I'm seeing how, despite thinking I was holding it all together pretty good, I was on the edge of coming completely unglued. (This was confirmed by a good friend who gave us wise counsel and said that we shouldn't be surprised if it takes us another year to recover from everything, especially now that we're in our house and have a safe refuge of sorts.) It truly is only because of God's grace that I am still functional and not depressed, a little more overweight perhaps (because of my poor stress coping skills) , but not physically fatigued or distressed.
Back to the boxes. I am finding that my memories of Mom are becoming more pronounced. Not the memories of healthy mom or relationship (which had its ups and downs) but rather the images of sick mom and the few weeks prior to her death when my siblings and I were caring for her 'round the clock; these have been a bit troublesome. I remember the weight of the care-giving that was required, the fatigue from those days, and the emotional exhaustion that accompanied it. Trying to figure out where to store these pictures in my mind and all that comes with them is proving to be quite the task. I know I'm "normal" (again, subjective), so I'm not worried I'm flipping out or anything like that, this is probably the right time to process so many of these things that there just haven't been time to process. But still, it takes work.
I've talked with my siblings about that month and half before mom died, and they are all experiencing similar things. It was not a "good" time, and I'll even take the risk of saying it was not a time when we felt especially protected by grace. Yes, the Lord was very present in the details and enabling us to be able to take care of mom. He arranged schedules and details perfectly; he provided all the finances through gifts from others so that there was no financial strain on our families, and he gave us each the ability to do what was needed to be done. When I say we didn't feel the protection of grace, I mean that we didn't feel protected from feeling all the real emotional pain that comes from doing something like this. We still felt the stretch and pulling, the grief, the doubts, the real physical fatigue and emotional exhaustion. I think we (as believers in general) can lull ourselves into thinking that when grace is present, we won't hurt or feel the pain, or even the anger that accompanies these life situations; that somehow all these emotions will magically be lessened somehow. Perhaps, the reality is that we can't fully comprehend how much our pain and suffering has been lessened because of God's grace and mercy. I'm understanding better that this experience was a bit like exercise. For my siblings and I, He proved himself to be "enough" all the way to the point of where we felt we couldn't give or do any more, stretching us further (like when we do physical exercise) and showing us that we could do it with His help. We didn't get to the point of where it was too much--although there were times when we felt like it--we still made it through, we still did what was needed to be done, and we don't have any regrets. We know we were there for Mom 100% and couldn't have given any more than what we did. But the reality of it is that there is residue. There are the memories--mental images, smells, feelings--that linger. There is nothing pretty about someone dying from cancer. No matter how much you try to dress it up in a spiritual bow, even with the hope of Heaven just beyond our fingertips, the process of getting there can be pretty horrendous. And these are the fragile boxes I'm left with.
I think back to the morning when Mom died as well, and, for whatever reason, I was the only one chosen to be present for that moment. I had heard stories about other people seeing Jesus, or angels just before they took their last breath, or having a moment of clarity, or something that gave onlookers a glimpse into Heaven. (I'll confess, my sisters and I had been praying that the Lord would give us a glimpse; just something that would let us know He was present, that Mom was truly being ushered into his presence...just something.) But nothing. The last few moments of her life were labored and ugly. Disturbing even. Again, more unpacking of fragile images, waiting to be sorted and stored in a safe place.
I know, this is a downer of a post...sorry. But this is my real life, and real life as a follower of Jesus. Things aren't neat and tidy. I do believe that we can learn from everything that the Lord allows into our lives, whether it be something more about ourselves, or about Him, or how to be more like Him. I believe that nothing is wasted, and this is what gives me hope. My prayer is that I'm a good steward of those things He has entrusted to me.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Sparrow Living
We're here. We're really here. Even last night as my husband and I relaxed and watched a little TV before bed, we would smile with disbelief that we were sitting in our new home, acting like this is where we really live!
It was a very busy and tiring week. Although we moved the majority of our things last weekend, we still had several items left in the apartment. Each night after work, my husband and I met at the apartment and hauled a few more things from the apartment to the house. I also worked at scrubbing bathrooms, mopping floors, vacuuming and overall cleaning of the entire apartment hopeful that we'll get all of our deposit back. Since we signed a lease through August (because our house wasn't supposed to be completed until August) we still had to pay our August rent at the apartment complex. However, since we moved out early, the management can now attempt to rent the apartment right away and then we'll get back the balance of the rent we paid. So, this is what we're praying for!
So, here we are, surrounded by boxes, and working at establishing new routines. I've moved the location of my silverware 3 times now...still not certain it has found a permanent home. Even establishing a new place for the pets water dishes and where to feed them is transitional. I'm sure they don't care, as long as they get fed.
We're in clean out and purge mode as we unpack boxes. We just have way too much junk. I was transformed while cleaning out and getting rid of the majority of my mother's things a few months ago. Seeing how much "stuff" she had accumulated and stored...it really made an impact and has made it much easier to get rid of the extras now rather than wait. We also have accumulated so much extra furniture and at least 20 boxes of other nick knack-y things from both of our mothers that we have more than enough items for a garage sale, so that is our goal at this point.
Our cable service was hooked up late yesterday afternoon (yeah) so we can communicate with the outside world once again. It is fun to see how resourceful your kids can get when they don't have Internet, cable or a phone to use. They quickly found the "games" box and have played endless rounds of "Life", "Clue" and "Mancala". I almost hate to be "connected" once again. I didn't miss the quiet that comes with being disconnected from technology. The phone didn't ring, You Tube wasn't playing on the computer, and the TV remained off most of the time. It will be good, however, to be able to do my online banking once again, as well as pay bills, and keep in touch with my blogging buddies. And the kids were having Facebook withdrawals.
Everyone is very friendly in our new neighborhood. Many have walked down the block to greet us and introduce themselves. Perhaps that comes from the understanding that we are all first time neighbors. Since this block is made up of all new homes, everyone is a new neighbor to one another. There are some families who have been here for the past year (the originals on the block), but the majority of the families, like us, have just moved in over the past couple of months. It is a multi-cultural neighborhood which is kinda neat. And multi-generational as well, although weighted more heavily toward the younger families with children.
One of the perks we have already discovered living 3 miles further west of our previous home is that gas prices are lower! We noticed yesterday our family-owned gas station around the corner lowered their prices to $3.84. We have become "regulars" there. Speaking of gas prices, my husband and I played a game this week where we kept track our mileage and time to our respective work places. Each day we each tried a different route for our commute and then shared our results in the evening. It was interesting to find that often the route that was quicker --because we can travel 50 mph on the back country roads--actually added 2 miles onto the journey, whereas the one that was shortest, added about 10 minutes because there were more stop lights and traffic congestion involved. At this point, we're opting for saving gas and leaving a little earlier.
As I write this even now, I am in disbelief that we get to live here. It is so beautiful, so home-y and so "us", I can't believe it. When I say "beautiful" I don't mean in the designer-type of beautiful either. We have old furniture and only enough for the family room, we are using our living room area as the office/computer/game room area and we don't even have color on our walls yet. (We didn't want to pay a lot of extra to have someone else paint before we moved in.) By beautiful I mean it is just such a good fit for us--open, airy, light, very functional, very comfortable. It is so quiet here as well and truly, feels like a place of rest. Of all the homes and places we have lived, this feels most like home to us--and we've only been here 7 days! We're so thankful and so keenly aware that the Lord is pouring His goodness out on us--and we're soaking it up. With all that life has held over the past years, I know the Lord has prepared this nest for us as a place of rest, healing and restoration.
It was a very busy and tiring week. Although we moved the majority of our things last weekend, we still had several items left in the apartment. Each night after work, my husband and I met at the apartment and hauled a few more things from the apartment to the house. I also worked at scrubbing bathrooms, mopping floors, vacuuming and overall cleaning of the entire apartment hopeful that we'll get all of our deposit back. Since we signed a lease through August (because our house wasn't supposed to be completed until August) we still had to pay our August rent at the apartment complex. However, since we moved out early, the management can now attempt to rent the apartment right away and then we'll get back the balance of the rent we paid. So, this is what we're praying for!
So, here we are, surrounded by boxes, and working at establishing new routines. I've moved the location of my silverware 3 times now...still not certain it has found a permanent home. Even establishing a new place for the pets water dishes and where to feed them is transitional. I'm sure they don't care, as long as they get fed.
We're in clean out and purge mode as we unpack boxes. We just have way too much junk. I was transformed while cleaning out and getting rid of the majority of my mother's things a few months ago. Seeing how much "stuff" she had accumulated and stored...it really made an impact and has made it much easier to get rid of the extras now rather than wait. We also have accumulated so much extra furniture and at least 20 boxes of other nick knack-y things from both of our mothers that we have more than enough items for a garage sale, so that is our goal at this point.
Our cable service was hooked up late yesterday afternoon (yeah) so we can communicate with the outside world once again. It is fun to see how resourceful your kids can get when they don't have Internet, cable or a phone to use. They quickly found the "games" box and have played endless rounds of "Life", "Clue" and "Mancala". I almost hate to be "connected" once again. I didn't miss the quiet that comes with being disconnected from technology. The phone didn't ring, You Tube wasn't playing on the computer, and the TV remained off most of the time. It will be good, however, to be able to do my online banking once again, as well as pay bills, and keep in touch with my blogging buddies. And the kids were having Facebook withdrawals.
Everyone is very friendly in our new neighborhood. Many have walked down the block to greet us and introduce themselves. Perhaps that comes from the understanding that we are all first time neighbors. Since this block is made up of all new homes, everyone is a new neighbor to one another. There are some families who have been here for the past year (the originals on the block), but the majority of the families, like us, have just moved in over the past couple of months. It is a multi-cultural neighborhood which is kinda neat. And multi-generational as well, although weighted more heavily toward the younger families with children.
One of the perks we have already discovered living 3 miles further west of our previous home is that gas prices are lower! We noticed yesterday our family-owned gas station around the corner lowered their prices to $3.84. We have become "regulars" there. Speaking of gas prices, my husband and I played a game this week where we kept track our mileage and time to our respective work places. Each day we each tried a different route for our commute and then shared our results in the evening. It was interesting to find that often the route that was quicker --because we can travel 50 mph on the back country roads--actually added 2 miles onto the journey, whereas the one that was shortest, added about 10 minutes because there were more stop lights and traffic congestion involved. At this point, we're opting for saving gas and leaving a little earlier.
As I write this even now, I am in disbelief that we get to live here. It is so beautiful, so home-y and so "us", I can't believe it. When I say "beautiful" I don't mean in the designer-type of beautiful either. We have old furniture and only enough for the family room, we are using our living room area as the office/computer/game room area and we don't even have color on our walls yet. (We didn't want to pay a lot of extra to have someone else paint before we moved in.) By beautiful I mean it is just such a good fit for us--open, airy, light, very functional, very comfortable. It is so quiet here as well and truly, feels like a place of rest. Of all the homes and places we have lived, this feels most like home to us--and we've only been here 7 days! We're so thankful and so keenly aware that the Lord is pouring His goodness out on us--and we're soaking it up. With all that life has held over the past years, I know the Lord has prepared this nest for us as a place of rest, healing and restoration.
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