Don't know why I cried. Must have been the backward thrust of the plane that squeezed tears right out the corners of my eyes. Yeah...that's it. Then I overheard the gentleman in front of me order tomato juice from the stewardess. I decided it sounded good and could be a momentary distraction (if you like that sort of thing). So, I sipped, and I grinned when the gentleman behind me was told that I'd taken the last one. I sipped, and I wondered. I wondered how we'd arrived at this point. It kind of crept up suddenly..or maybe it just seemed sudden. It seems these days we spend lots of time traveling back and forth to airports... and lots of time saying goodbye.
...wouldn't have been my first choice.
I reflected on how life has changed. Indeed, there's still the day-to-day, but somehow there are now all these other things that are reaching deeper in to the recesses of my heart. Life keeps digging in and filling formerly vacant spots. ...or maybe they weren't really vacant...perhaps they were just filled with fluff...like kids outgrowing clothes, or if the car needs an oil change, or if my hair needs a highlight (did I say that?)...perhaps it's like deep-well things crowding out the fluff...so I need a bigger bucket and a little more muscle, for I'm finding that the water I'm drawing from the deep well is heavier than the fluff.
Growing pains. As I began watching the expansion of my nest, and began listening to the inevitable creaks and groans of growing, I found myself in an unfamiliar place...uncharted territory for me. It brought me to a place in mothering where my shortcomings outweighed my strengths. But, as always, I know that God is teaching me...and as usual, I'm a slow learner. Oh, I was good at the games and the bikes and the trains and the dolls, but this....this is different. So as "growth" and "goodbye" become commonplace, and we learn way too much about airports from here to Timbuktu....achy vacancies take up residence in a mother's heart, and each one resembles the face of a beautiful child.
"Mother, should I be a painter or a writer?"
"I think whichever one you love, Faith."
"Wouldn't it be funny if I was an opera singer?!"
"Oh, please don't be an opera singer."
On my last visit to Nashville, we worked at the Son of God tour. We tried to keep busy and act like we knew what we were doing and had a blast. Just before the concert, an older gentleman sat down beside me, smiled at me, and said, "So, what's God been saying to your heart lately?" At first I was taken aback, but then I realized what an amazing question it really was. So I shared with him how God's been working with me in regard to fear and worry. "I learn alot from asking people this question," he told me. It became something I will never forget. He kept rocking forward in his seat during the concert like he could hardly tolerate remaining in his seat. At one point, Mitchell, Emily, and I all jumped to our feet at the exact same moment....and right up beside me came this gentleman. And he began to dance. And dance. And it was a shameless, full-on, don't-care-who's-watching dance. And we danced along.
He became to us, "the man who couldn't contain his dance." Sometimes you have these short encounters with people who leave a mark on your heart.
Never contain your dance.
"Mother, you know how when you're used to having someone around and then they're not there, it just feels like they're....... gone?"
"Oh, I know, baby girl."
One child (who could remain nameless except that said child's name is on the paper and you'd figure it out anyways) has insatiable curiosity which resulted in a two week long discipline chart.
She is such a doll
And then there was this one that she was asked to write today in response to....well, it's pretty self explanatory...
I was just thinking today about how I used to imagine her. I used to picture her walking around the house...and then here she came...walking through the kitchen, black hair bobbing cutely in a ponytail, nose in a book reading as she walked...and I was amazed at how much she resembled my imaginings.
(terribly blurry, grabbed my phone and took it through the window)
Like getting to tell Dave Ramsey your son is going to college on cash. Yes, I was star struck and the giddy-ness showed.
Three things:
1. When you're rounding the corner at Wally-world and your child says, "I love beef jerky. It's good on digestion." That's just wrong on so many levels.
2. When your child sticks gum on what you consider to be the nicest fixture left in your house.
3. When you know beyond any doubt that God chose so well for you in the lifetime mate department.
Oh, how I love this man. He is my constant re-focus-er when my vision becomes blurry.
"Do you think I look like my first mother?"
"You probably do."
"Do you think she'll look for me?"
...and when I turned from the sink to look at her, she had tears in her eyes. And I explained again...as best I could...again.
On the 4th of July we celebrated with large ice cream blizzards to watch the fireworks. The forever people-watcher, I had to think there was something so American about a little girl plopping down in front of us on her spread-out Hello Kitty blanket with a family-sized bag of cheesies. When the fireworks finale' ended, Faith exclaimed for all to hear, "America is alive and free!" Then we laughed.
"When I'm a mom, I'm just gonna get a huge chalkboard and write all the rules on it!"
Good luck with that.
"I have a little voice inside my head that repeats everything I say."
"You mean you have an echo in your head?"
"Yes. Don't you wish you could get shrinked down so you could travel in someone's mind and see what they're thinking?"
"Wouldn't it be easier just to ask them?"
Forthwith, this shall be the end of my ramblings.
1 comment:
Oh, Cherie...I'm just sitting here crying big old mama tears. I hear my man reading oh, so enthusiastically to Lily and Joshua, think of my son an ocean away and hear the question, "Mama, do I look like my first mom?" reverberate off of my heart and stream down my face. Thanks for posting again, friend.
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