Brave, Anyway

Tag: light

  • Memories in Light and Dark

    Memories in Light and Dark

    Today I am thankful for Facebook’s memories feature. I started my day with the memory of finding this photo, taken on the day I learned Audrey was cancer-free. I was, and am still, so grateful I actually have a photo of that day.

    This picture is one of my reminders that God answers prayers, and that doctors and nurses and medicine are one of the ways God heals. It’s also a reminder that just as Audrey curled up to sleep in my lap, I can curl up to safely and securely sleep in my Father’s lap – because whatever is going on, He’s got it.

    I accidentally took two screenshots of the memory, and I actually like that one is light and one is dark. I didn’t know it when this picture was snapped, but the darkness – the cancer – was already gone.

    Isn’t that how darkness often is? We’re cowering in it or feeling stuck in it, and actually our healing or our freedom is already there and we don’t yet grasp it. We sometimes have no idea, in those darkest of moments, how free we are really are, how free we can be, or how free we are going to be.

  • City Management

    City Management

    I manage a city. I manage a city, and I have every job within the city.

    When things go awry with my children or their friends, or even with kids at school they don’t really know, I am on the other end of the 9-1-1 call. My job is to ask just enough questions to assess risk and recommend action, but not upset the balance so much that they don’t call again because I overreacted to their call for help.

    Sometimes there’s a fire and I can show my girls how they can extinguish it. Sometimes there’s a fire and I need to put it out for them. Sometimes I know without a second thought that a fire will eventually die out without causing any damage, and I just let that issue smolder. Sometimes the fire in our lives is 4-alarm and requires multiple trucks and stations – family and neighbors and helpers.

    I restore the peace as children disagree. Issuing citations and enforcing time out periods, in hopes of deterring bad behavior. I also investigate friends that seem to not be good influences.

    I fix booboos of all kinds on everything from knees to hearts. Jumping into ambulances and speeding off with lights and sirens to get help when basic triage isn’t working.

    I clean up spills and overflows and experiments. Slime. Paint. Markers. Sharpies. Lotion potions. Cat throw-up. Marshmallow explosions in the microwave.

    I am the collector of garbage. Everything from candy wrappers to an entire box of tissues used during a make-up lesson. I am also the one who sweeps up after all the emotional messes created by others – the hurt and anger and pain that children hide until they can get home, when it all comes pouring out on the parent they trust to love them and be there for them no matter how much they melt down.

    I am the provider of water, earlier in my career called upon as a way to delay bedtime and later in my career called upon for a glass of water even if a child is physically closer to the kitchen but cannot possibly get up off the couch.

    Just like Miss Utility, my children call on me when digging into things. They need help carefully navigating all the wires and pipes that could cause pain and really hurt them.

    I am one central office in the municipal center that grants or denies permits for all things. Painting a new color in a bedroom, sleepovers, extended bed times, bowling with boys, favorite cute shorts on 50 degree days.

    I am aware of all children in proximity to my children and constantly keeping track of who has been on antibiotics at least 24 hours without a fever, who around us isn’t vaccinated, and who has food allergies.

    I oversee transportation. Bus rides to school, rides to and from activities. I arrange more than just the transport of people but also all that is needed for the “thing” – a backpack, a suitcase, a musical instrument, a bathing suit, a sports physical form, a costume, or simply just a brush and make-up.

    I am a 9-1-1 operator, a firefighter, a police officer, an EMT, a member of the HAZMAT team, and a sanitation worker. I am public utilities, the public health inspector, VDOT, and even Animal Control.

    I am a Mom.

    Some days my city runs more smoothly than others. Some days there are no fires or traffic. Some days I know a storm is coming and I can batten down all the hatches and protect the city. Some days an unexpected yet utterly predictable earthquake strikes, plunging our city into darkness – and then I spend days managing the anxiety and realizations brought on by the event and its aftershocks.

    Some days I think I need more focus on city planning and other days I think I need more focus on emergency services. Balance is the key, I guess, and that’s constantly a work in progress – for any Mom and in any city.

    I don’t think Pete Buttigieg really has a chance at becoming the President, but I love this summary of his: In local government, it’s very clear to your customers – your citizens – whether or not you’re delivering. Either that pothole gets filled in, or it doesn’t. The results are very much on display, and that creates a very healthy pressure to innovate.

    It’s Monday in my city, the beginning of the last week of summer. The week for final back-to-school preparations, annual vaccinations, water balloon fights, and beginning to rein in our desire to sleep in. Next week my city will change again as school buses fill the roads and schedules change. It’s time for change and it’s time for innovation. That means it’s time for granting more space and showing more trust in smart girls who are growing and maturing, it means fixing some potholes here and there, and it even means constructing some new roads.

    It’s time to double down on the brave.

    Brave parenting. Brave city management. Brave new paths.

    This is one of my favorite pictures of my house – the hub of my little city. My neighbor took this picture on the night of the super moon in January 2018. I love, love, love that it looks like a giant star of light hovering above our home…a giant light hovering above my city. It’s one of my reminders that darkness did not and does not defeat light.

  • Closet Space

    Closet Space

    One of the best experiences in the days when your house becomes just yours is that moment when you realize that the closet belongs wholly to you. No sharing. No things hanging haphazardly and with no real organization. Tie racks become scarf organizers. Purses and shoes reside just above their corresponding clothes.

    The closet is all yours.

    All. Yours.

    You hear a little hallelujah chorus, and that chorus grows into full-on thank you, Jesus, worship.

    There’s been only one thing hanging in my closet that doesn’t belong there: my old wedding dress. Almost two years ago now, I pulled it out to throw it away only to discover that others were not quite ready for that step. Since then it’s just been hanging way in the back, taking up space.

    Over time we’ve talked more about the dress, and my firm belief that the girls should never wear it or even use the fabric. I’m a faith person, but I’m also a bit of a superstitious person – and if they ever decide to get married I want everything associated with their day and their union to have positive energy.

    Over time we’ve all become more comfortable with the idea of that dress not hanging in my closet for all of eternity. Over that same time I’ve become significantly more light-hearted, and laughed about the variety of things people do with their old dresses – everything from playing paintball in them to having a bonfire with them to mailing them to an ex’s office (now how funny would that be?).

    Until recently, I had every intention of simply throwing it in a dumpster. But I happened to catch a bit of a news story last week about brides who can’t afford gowns, and I was struck by their faces when they encountered dresses they never would have been able to get otherwise.

    And that made me think again about my dress, purchased from Karen Eagle on Laskin Road more than 20 years ago. A dress stored following exact instructions, and likely a dress in perfect condition.

    It seemed wrong to donate a dress that was worn on the first day of a marriage that was filled with lies and ended in complete disaster. It seemed like some poor girl would start off her marriage by wearing a dress that had really bad juju, and her marriage would subsequently be destined for disaster.

    And yet, what if a dress is just a dress? What if it’s just fabric, and the energy associated with it has nothing to do with its history? What if something good came from it? What if God could make something beautiful from ashes?

    My late night musings became a prayer over the dress. A prayer for the next girl who will wear it. A prayer specifically for her marriage.

    • May you decide each day to choose happy.
    • May your partner actually be your partner, with the same values and focus on family.
    • May you both keep and honor your vows, to God and one another.
    • May every I love you that you speak and hear be heartfelt and full of truth.
    • May you know deep in your heart that you are not a person in relation to someone else – you are whole and beloved and perfect all on your own, and in marriage you’re a whole person alongside another whole person.
    • May all the dreams that are good for you come true.
    • May God save you from dreams and hopes that you don’t know aren’t right for you. And then may you have the wisdom and courage to not chase that which God has saved you from.
    • When dark days come, and they inevitably will, may you and your partner always look to the Light together.
    • May your marriage last until death do you part.

    This morning on the way to work, I stopped at Goodwill and I laughed with the young man at the center about whether or not I should take the tax deduction receipt. It felt really, really good to make that donation, to get rid of that baggage, and to free up that space in my closet and in my spirit. And yet just a few minutes up the road I started to have second thoughts about whether or not a prayer for some unknown girl unknowingly wearing my cursed dress will really make everything work out okay for her.

    I know God has to be so tired of me asking for signs. I am the worst kid, always demanding: show me a sign, I just need a sign. How do I know this was the right thing?! Was this the wrong thing?

    And then I looked up as the traffic light turned green and noticed the car in front of me. It’s license tag, my sign: G Is Good.

    God is good.

    God is good, so I can trust that the girl who ends up with that dress will be just fine.

    She might be a young bride; she might be an old bride. She might be a formal wedding bride; she might be a JOP bride. She might be a first-time bride; she might be a second-time bride. Or she might just be a girl who needs a Halloween costume – and that’s a pretty fitting ending in this case, too.

    To whoever ends up with the dress, may blessings chase you down.

  • Go Into The Light, Brave One

    I think I have seen every episode of Friends at least a couple times. Some of them I’ve probably seen a dozen times – I especially love the Thanksgiving episodes and the ones from the season where the main characters have switched apartments.

    One of my favorite Phoebe moments is in an early episode and it’s the one where Mr. Heckles dies. She senses that his spirit is still in the building, and she yells “Go into the light, Mr. Heckles!”

    There are people who believe that when we die unexpectedly or with unresolved issues, our unsettled spirits wander until that business is settled – until maybe their loved ones are safe or they can pass along a message to those of us still here – and only then do those people pass over into the next life. I’m not sure what to think about that, other than to say that I think it’s possible there are ghosts.

    But what I do believe with certainty is that those of us in the land of the living often choose to wander around in darkness. Darkness can be a toxic relationship, a job we don’t like, grief, addiction, anger. (Even the Old Testament Israelites wandered around in the desert for 40 years before entering their promised land.)

    When bad or disappointing or unexpected things happen in our lives, we experience a time of emotional upheaval. And after we survive that initial upheaval, we make a choice – consciously or unconsciously – to wander around in the darkness or to get up and seek the light.

    Googling “light” shows you a couple of basic definitions:

    1. the natural agent that stimulates sight and makes things visible,
    2. an understanding of a problem or mystery, or my favorite…
    3. something that makes vision possible.

    Light requires action. We turn on a light or turn on our headlights. We light a fire. Or even, we arm ourselves and fight with a light saber.

    The commonality is that light requires our action.

    Light makes things possible. Light not only can give us hope, I realized recently that it actually kind of requires our hope first.

    We will wander around in darkness until we decide to seek the light. And if we make no decision to seek it and take no action to seek it, the truth is we are stagnant in darkness.

    We have to want and fight for the vision that is possible.

    We have to be brave.

    It takes bravery to hope in light, especially when we are surrounded by darkness. It takes bravery to seek light. It takes bravery to turn on light. And even, it takes bravery to fight with a light saber.

    So today and every day I say to myself, to my girls, to anyone who’s wandering in a darkness or a wilderness in our land of the living: Go into the light, brave one.

    IMG_3142