Mister Twister

These past two months have been a roller coaster ride of highs and lows, the death of a close family member on one hand, a two week long escape with my husband on the other. There have been more mundane, yet emotional twists and turns too. My high school daughter sat on a plane on the tarmac in Guatemala for hours while she missed her connecting flights and her chance to attend her own high school graduation the next morning seemed to slip away. Fortunately, the flight eventually took off, she was able to slide into one of the last 2 seats back that night, and even caught a few hours of sleep before donning her cap and gown.  My older daughter graduated from college the same month my youngest finished high school. Like a rider on the jerky old wooden "Mister Twister" ride at our local amusement park,  my emotions jerk back and forth from effervescent joy over the great accomplishments of my daughters, to a feeling of loss because of the inevitable changes ahead as they each begin a new stage of life farther away.

My step kids take turns swinging, without warning, from friendly to hostile and back again. My level of frustration climbs and falls wildly along with them. I feel a bit shaky after these crazy weeks, the way I feel when I get off a roller coaster somewhat exhilarated, but also a bit dizzy and nauseous.

Thank you for your patience as I have been away living my crazy life instead of thinking and writing about it. I hope to post on this blog biweekly through the rest of the summer. 

For now, I am here, firmly buckled into my seat in life, the twistiest, wildest, ride ever.

"Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting, 'Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!'" --Beth Moore

Apologies

I am not sure that apologies make riveting blog reading, but I feel compelled to write an apology to you anyway.

First, an apology for this apology. Generally, when a person feels compelled to explain their actions and attach them to an apology, it isn't a real apology. Maybe I am making excuses here instead of apologizing. Either way here is the reason I haven't posted much at all during the past few weeks.

In the past several weeks I have celebrated my oldest daughter's college graduation in California, and then immediately after our return, my younger daughter's high school senior awards events. At that same time, I was helping her prepare for a missions trip to Guatemala. She was in Guatemala when her grandmother and sister flew in for her high school graduation, and another close relative (she is technically my half-sister since she is my dad's adopted daughter, but she feels more like a niece since she is the same age as my youngest child, but all that is too complicated to explain here so don't even try to understand. The point is, we had more big celebrations going on.) Cassie almost missed her own big day since her flight home from Guatemala the day before graduation was cancelled due to all the severe storms in the mid-west. She made it home just in time to catch a few hours sleep and a shower before graduation. Her teacher and the rest of the group weren't so lucky. They "slept" in the Dallas airport that night and slid into their seats at graduation just after the graduates entered!

Then there was the double graduation party, and 5 trips to the airport that week, and my nephew's wedding in Estes Park...

In the early morning 36 hours after the wedding, my mother-in-law was found with no pulse. We spent a few hours saying goodbye to her in the hospital, and this week has been full of the sad business of grief.  So, though I'm making excuses, I have been unable to post regularly to this blog. Please forgive me. I will be away on vacation for the next couple of weeks.

Look for me to return to posting at least once a week after June 27. Thanks for your patience.

Beth

PS I wrote a bit about my own experiences with the death of a loved one on my other blog: thosewhosee.blogspot.com

Like a Robin...

There is a new robin's nest resting snugly in the aspen tree right outside our family room windows.  The nest is just below eye level so we can kneel backwards on our couch and watch the nest without disturbing the birds doing their bird things, just a foot or two away. Right now there are three little blue eggs in the nest.

We had a cold rainy weekend. For days the mother robin spread her wings to cover the nest as she huddled down over the eggs, rain dripping off her head and tail.

We grilled hamburgers Saturday evening, just a few feet away from the nest. Every time we lifted the lid on the grill, the startled mother bird left the nest, flew to the fence and issued a frantic string of robin obscenities. As soon as we disappeared back inside the house she'd be back on the nest. At the risk of over-anthropomorphizing, she seemed to me to be sitting there sulking.

I think I know how she felt. My stepdaughter had the kind of rough weekend sleep deprived, strong-willed, hormonal, early adolescents are prone to. Every few minutes something angered her, she fluttered away squawking about her own innocence, and the guilt of whoever offended her. Generally, it was me.  I, the "mature", hormonal, PMSing woman, responded by getting my own feathers ruffled. The main difference between us being that I spent the entire weekend making a less-than-successful attempt to do my own seething internally.

Now comes the part of the blog where I draw a nice neat little application, mix in an appropriate Bible verse, and tell you all how to avoid reacting to the pains and frustrations in your life the way mother robins, and I, react to our own pains and frustrations. I can't do it though. That would give the wrong impression that life is meant to be fixed, and if we just find the right formula, all will be well. Many, maybe even most Christians live that way, trying to use Christianity as an antidote to the icky-ness of life.

The truth is there is no Christian magic formula. Life is messy. No one gets through it without some pain. We hurt the people we love the most, protesting loudly that the other person is to blame. I realized at least momentarily, this weekend how very far I have to go before I reach maturity, before I am able to love God and my family the way Jesus loved. I have been told that brokenness is a necessary step toward maturity.  I certainly can't boast, not even boast that I have achieved brokenness.

I can say that it is a good thing that Jesus loves me just because of who he is, and I can rest in that.