Brave, Anyway

Tag: brave

  • Mid-Life

    Mid-Life

    There are five basic stages of life: child, teenager, adult, mid-life, and old. Not all of these stages have clear parameters in my brain, but as I am not yet retired, I am not yet old. So that puts me firmly in mid-life. Or so I thought, until my old boss pointed out that mid-life is not 50 unless people live to be 100. I’m 53 years into life, and math has never once made my day better.

    I don’t know that I ever gave much thought to midlife before now. As a kid, I couldn’t wait to be a teenager. As a teenager, I couldn’t wait to be an adult. And once I became an adult, life became a whirlwind of career, kids, responsibilities, and deadlines. The only thing I have really looked ahead to and planned for is the retirement years. But it turns out, these midlife years aren’t just flyover states on the way to old age. They’re actually a pretty awesome destination all on their own.

    The girls are older, and more and more they have their own lives. And that means for the first time in two decades, I have the time and freedom to do and explore things simply because I want to. I’m learning what it feels like to be Beth again, not just someone’s mom.

    I have to snap because my girls snap, but mid-life me does it from my antique rocker. This should be called the Take On Me filter.

    I’m increasingly convinced that this stage is a very important part of God’s plan for our lives. It’s not a winding down, but more of a commissioning. Life experience plus the unique gifts God gives each of us plus time equals our ability to do the work only we can do.

    Maybe that’s why this season of life feels so good, with so much added energy and joy. I’m no longer chasing the next destination. I’m growing into the person God has been shaping all along.

    At the same time, mid-life is not for the weak if you’re a girl. Seriously, we carry and birth the babies, and then we’re rewarded with not one, but two stages of menopause? Midlife is spiritually rich, emotionally freeing, and hormonally outrageous.

    In the midst of all the mid-life awesomeness, there are these kinds of thoughts each day.

    AARP is not for mid-life, it is for old age. Stop sending me mail. If you want me to sign up in this stage of life, one of your discounts should be with Dominion Power so AC can be cheaper. I need lots and lots of AC and it costs lots and lots of money.

    If I’m in the ER at 2 a.m. struggling to remember basic information, it’s because I’m a morning person and this is not my best time of day. Midlife patients need nurses who understand this. And if I joke that I don’t need a dementia test, that’s your cue to laugh. I don’t care if it’s fake.

    When my car needs service, I should be able to Google Toyota on Laskin Road and get a human. Or even a bot. Instead, I call three different numbers asking for Ken, and no one can find my record. AI can break into government websites, explain complicated science things, and enable political folks to create stupid images, but what it really needs to know is which Toyota dealership I mean.

    Stages of life in my back yard this summer!

    I spent the first half of life becoming a grown-up. Even now, I’m still the middle schooler who laughs at inappropriate jokes. Somehow, God has taken all the pieces of me that never seemed to go together and fit them into something beautiful. Mid-life is where you finally start to see the puzzle come together, and it’s so much better than I ever imagined.

  • Purposes

    Purposes

    Only two months remaining in the year of purpose. At the beginning of this year, I was a little worried to focus on a word. While I hoped that I might have some sort of epiphany about my place on the planet, I also wondered if I should set careful expectations given how the year of freedom went.

    What I think about purpose has changed this year. Specifically three things.

    1. If we spend all our time focused on one big thing, like a job or something we might do, we risk spending months or even years thinking we don’t have a purpose or we’ve missed our purpose.

    2. We have an opportunity to live with purpose every day. If we waste time and energy on seeking one big thing, we’ll miss thousands of chances to make a difference in our world.

    3. Time and healing are the key ingredients to understanding the purpose of things, people and events in our lives.

    When something crappy inevitably happens, we can spend a lot of time caught up in whys. Or even what is the purpose of this? I think the better question to focus on is what is my purpose in this? Is it to take action, learn, pray, listen, bring peace, raise hell, set an example?

    Our purpose is not about one thing. It’s a thousand things in a thousand moments. We can have totally different purposes in moments 30 minutes apart. And our purpose in one season can change for the next season. My overarching purpose in the last decade has been to provide stability and a firm foundation for the girls, but as they are getting older now I can see that this purpose is winding down.

    I am excited about a new season where I might have a little space for things I’ve always loved or been interested in – to explore what my purpose might be in them and to explore what purpose they might have in me. Things like getting more involved in the community, advocacy, and working the polls on election days.

    However, as I am firmly middle-aged entering this next phase, purposes will now need to be between 6:30 am and 9 pm. I cannot even fake being at my best at midnight.

    A year or so ago I watched a sermon by Dharius Daniels and he said something I knew was for later and saved in a note on my phone: Your uniqueness will feel like awkwardness until you get to a season where God shows you its relevance. Another way to think about that might be your uniqueness will feel like awkwardness until you get to a season where God shows you its purpose. What if the things we sometimes think make us strange are the things we need to lean into so we can really fulfill our purpose(s)?

    Life changes. Purposes change. With each purpose fulfilled, our happiness grows and the puzzle that we are gets closer to finished, or whole. And suddenly one day in the middle of a purpose the person always staring back at us on Zoom is stronger, wiser, and braver.

    Sometimes I wonder if Zoom is my purpose.

  • Dad

    My Dad has had a very big 24 hours. I imagine on his first day in heaven he got to see his Mom, reunite with all the folks in the great cloud of witnesses that cheered him on during his 82 years here, see all the cats and dogs and horses and fish he dearly loved during his time on earth, and he got to experience the pure joy in His presence that we read about in Psalms. And if by chance there is a crew of pranksters in heaven, my Dad has undoubtedly already joined it.

  • Keeping Myself Honest

    My journal entry from January 19, 2014, was called Keeping Myself Honest. I wrote it and then shared it because I really wanted to not wimp out and I thought I might.

    I have been thinking about going back to church.

    Since Audrey was born, I’ve only been a couple of times – early on to show everyone we were OK, then once a year later to have her baptized.

    Some people know I haven’t been attending and some people don’t. I’m ashamed of it, so I’m pretty good at hiding it. Truthfully, I think I am closer to God now than I have ever been. I pray about everything, all the time. I just don’t go to church right now.

    Why did I have Audrey baptized in a church I haven’t been attending? Tradition?

    Because I still believe in God. And because I want to cover her with some sort of protection shield – she’s God’s child, so with that protection she can’t be sick or overtaken by illness.

    But God’s children sometimes do get sick. I, of course, know that. I’ve seen people much more faithful than I who had a much sicker child than mine was. People much more faithful that lost their child. People with n    o faith at all, or who have the “wrong” God,  whose children got a horrible diagnosis but were healed – or who never even were sick! So who did something right and who did something wrong? Why were some people’s children healed and some not? Was it luck of the draw? Is it something the parents did or did not do? What is the secret? And why haven’t I under covered it yet?

    I was a pretty good pregnant person – I didn’t eat junk all day, didn’t smoke, etc. Yet people who treated their bodies horribly were having healthy children while Audrey was in the NICU. People who didn’t want children were having healthy children. I’ll admit I wasn’t a happy pregnant person. I didn’t feel well and I was grumpy to say the least. Was that it? But then why Audrey – I was the same way with Ella and she’s fine.

    Was it the oats I sowed in my younger years? Perhaps I was being punished for those. Was it the cheese I ate, the painting we did in her room, the water I drank from the tap, the chemicals in my lawn, or the fact that I laid more on my left side than my right?

    Was I not really as good of a Christian as I thought? Was God disappointed in me? And if so, seriously, was THIS the punishment?

    No, of course not. I *think* I have finally resolved that the answer is pretty simple. We live in an imperfect world, and sometimes really crappy things happen. It just is. Some people lose their children and some people don’t. Some people have children with medical issues and some don’t.

    So why not go back to church after this epiphany? Because of intense emotions. Shame. Anger. Thankfulness. Sadness. Love. The desire for anonymity.

    Shame: I have spent a lot of time wondering what I did to bring on the cancer diagnosis for my child. Other people have to wonder the same thing. How horrible must they think I have been at some point in my life?

    Anger: I have been a Christian my entire life. Not that anyone deserves a cancer diagnosis, but seriously this is what I get? Aren’t I owed something a little better than that?

    Thankfulness: I am so grateful, every moment of every day, that Audrey is healthy. When I walk into the building that we call church, sometimes I am so overwhelmed with gratitude that my eyes fill with tears. Just as I don’t know what I did to deserve the diagnosis, I also don’t know what I did to deserve the miracle of healing. It is humbling, to say the least.

    Sadness and Love: These two are uniquely tied. There are people at church that truly care about me, that I have known my entire life. They sent me cards/texts/messages that conveyed their love and hope and faith, and I cherish each one. But what I can’t get out of my memory is the looks on their faces during those early     days. They would see me and immediately their countenance would change. I could see their pity, and I still hate that. I could see their sadness and concern, and I am still overwhelmed by it.

    Anonymity: Sometimes I think it would be great to just meet all new people who didn’t know and who wouldn’t make me feel all these emotions. Do people know I will never be the same again and would the people I grew up with be disappointed by that? Is that a failure, not getting back to your old self? Does everyone see us through the lens of the cancer Audrey had? Of that time in our lives. Do I? I think maybe I do and that frustrates me.

    Did you notice that I didn’t say “Audrey’s cancer?” That was purposeful. I don’t want to speak anything negative or even slightly acknowledge in my speech that the cancer is Audrey’s. It most definitely is not. Call it superstitious. Or call it the southern Pentecostal belief that words have power and can work for good or bad. Call it neurotic or silly or sad. I believe it’s a bit of all of it, and frankly if I read somewhere that a daily ritual of hopping on one leg while singing Mary Had A Little Lamb had worked to keep someone else’s child cancer-free I would probably do that, too, just in case.

    I am thinking about going back to church, because I need to be fed. I am thinking about going back to church because Ella and Audrey are missing out on something that is an important and fun part of childhood. I am thinking about going back to church because Ella is asking more and more questions I need help answering. I am thinking about going back to church because I think this range of emotions may never go away, or at the very least will not get better without exposure over time. I am thinking about going back to church because I can now give support and not just take support. I am thinking about going back to church simply because I miss it. I am thinking about going back to church because I’ve realized that there’s not a point at which I will be my old self again, and that that’s not a weakness.

    I am sharing this simply to keep myself honest. I am going back to church and am not going to wimp out.

    Thankful I did not wimp out – I am stronger and better and happier because of it. Thankful that God did not – and will never – give up on me. Thankful that Audrey is a cancer survivor. Thankful for all the people who supported us and loved on us during those early years – many of whom I still get to hug on Sundays (they must be tired of waiting for me to get to real adulthood). Thankful that my girls both love Jesus, and for all the people in their village who teach them and guide them and pray for them. Thankful for the beautiful historical building that is my church and for the beautiful group of people who are my church – whether we are gathered together in person or online, the words of Matthew always come to mind: “where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there among them.”

  • Promise

    Promise

    A year ago at about this time I was mulling over what my word for 2021 would be. The word that kept coming to mind was promise, but I dismissed it over and over again. In the middle of a pandemic with virtual school, not seeing anyone in person at Christmas, and vaccine rollout looking shaky, I wasn’t feeling the word promise.

    On New Year’s Eve I thought that maybe my word would come to me in the first few weeks of the new year. And I even thought that maybe every year didn’t need a word and maybe 2021 just wouldn’t have one.

    But then all throughout this year, things that I’ve been talking to God about for a very long time, things that have been on my heart but I’ve never spoken out loud, even some things that were important to me at a time but I’d since forgotten about have started to happen or fall into place. And each time, the word promise has come back to me and lingered in my thoughts.

    And I realized something this year…that I had stopped actively believing in promises. It wasn’t a decision I made at any point. It just sort of happened over time. As life happened, I guess. I still believed that prayers had power and that God answered prayers, but I didn’t necessarily expect promises to be fulfilled.

    So I started researching God’s promises. As it turns out there are dozens and dozens of them, and I even pretty regularly read and rely on them – I just haven’t been thinking of them as promises.

    * There is a plan for my life. Ephesians 2:10 and Jeremiah 29:11

    * I am filled with strength and courage even when/if I don’t feel like it. 2 Timothy 1:7

    * I can do hard things. Isaiah 40:29

    * I can follow my gut and trust my gut because God provides discernment. James 1:5

    * My children may have doubts and bad days, but they are always, always going to be children of God and know God. Acts 16:31

    * When I really mess up, God loves me anyway and nothing will change that. Romans 8

    * I always have a safe place, somewhere to hide. Psalm 5

    * Nothing that happens to me or around me is ever a surprise to a God, so He is not unprepared which means I am not unprepared. Psalm 139

    * God knows what I need before I ask and sometimes even before I know, and He’s got it. Isaiah 65:24

    * Literally even His name is a promise – Emmanuel means God with us and his name is a reminder of His constant presence as I walk through each day.

    In the last few years I’ve talked to God about everything from helping me fulfill my promise to get Ella a car, to living without fear, to providing the perfect helpers for the girls, to healing for hearts and bodies. In the last 12 months, He’s delivered over and over and over again – even with small desires like finding a beloved lost ring. He also prepared people and hearts and things just in time before some tough stuff. There are still things I pray about each day, several times a day, that have not yet happened – and my type A need-to-see-data-and-progress self is not great at waiting or with letting someone else handle it. I want to DO all the things all the time because why do things take so long sometimes??? But the truth is I’m not capable of the biggies, and God is batting a thousand.

    I’ve decided my word for 2021 was actually promise, and I even came across a new (to me) promise in words that I’ve read many times before but suddenly read in a new way. In the days leading up to Jesus’ birth, two women who dared to believe in miracles and promises got together to encourage one another. One of the things Elizabeth said to Mary is “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her.” Luke 1:45

    These cloths with our prayers for the world and community will fill the manger in our church’s nativity.