Brave, Anyway

Tag: peace

  • What just happened, and what did we learn?

    What just happened, and what did we learn?

    It’s an absolutely gorgeous day, sitting in the 72 degree sunshine listening to Duran Duran while my Mom gets her second dose of the vaccine.

    Tomorrow is the anniversary of my last “normal” day – the girls went to school, I spent the morning in the office, then had lunch with friends on a similarly warm and sunny day. It was Friday the 13th, and we thought COVID must be this thing that caused drastic intestinal issues because that seemed like the only logical reason people would be buying crazy amounts of toilet paper. The prospect of being home for a couple of weeks seemed nice, and yet there was an undertone of apprehension. More than anything I guess I felt Michael Scott-ish: I’m not superstitious, but I am a little stitious.

    A whole year of quarantine…

    What a terrible time for USPS to not be at the top of its game. We needed mail and packages, not just for meds and necessities but for breaking up the monotony of our days.

    Sometimes I was so excited to get an Amazon box that I ripped it open without scissors or a knife. This almost always resulted in a giant and deep cardboard papercut, and after a whole year I still have not yet learned to control myself.

    All things related to food are different than a year ago. Grocery shopping online became a pain in the rear and a giant blessing. Worst. UIs. Ever. It’s great to not risk getting COVID just because we’d like cheese and Raisinets, but the likelihood of getting all of what you want into an online cart in less than an hour and without having to start over is almost zero – and suddenly my swear jar has the potential to make more than my 401K. It’s no surprise that DoorDash revenue increased 267 percent in the last 12 months.

    Masks seem like they might be here to stay and they aren’t all bad. They delay recognition of, if not entirely hide, our runny noses. They hide the WTH facial expressions we’re not always good at keeping under control. And they keep our faces warm in winter.

    I used to always complain my office was cold. But now that I work from home I still think my office is cold. While there’s a possibility the issue is decreased circulation due to aging, I am leaning toward two broken thermostats. I also used to complain about having to wait the 1.5 minutes it took for the office Keurig to heat water and produce a cup of contentment – but that 1.5 minutes is even longer now that no one is standing around with me questioning my hair color and shoe choices.

    I have had so much more time this year to read and watch. I had forgotten how much I like documentaries in particular. In terms of fluff, I will watch half of one episode of a show (Cobra Kai), or every single episode without sleeping until I have consumed the whole series (You and Virgin River). There is no middle of the road.

    I also had time to just live with my girls. To pay attention because we weren’t rushing in the mornings or evenings. I love love love to listen to my daughters sing in the shower. We have laughed at and shared thousands of TikToks and youtube videos. I’ve seen every guinea pig photo on Instagram. I’ve listened to and read the lyrics of the songs on Ella’s worship playlist in Apple Music, and I found so many things that really moved me.

    I know lots of moms miss the baby phases but I am enjoying talking to and meeting the kids with whom they choose to be friends, answering the questions they ask and that they don’t think to ask about history and current events, and seeing what interests them when someone doesn’t place in front of them what to read or watch or give attention to.

    We’ve taken a ridiculous number of pictures this year. I regularly pick up a device and find that the girls have filled it with silly-faced photos.

    We’ve also taken a stupid number of selfies, which is fine for kids and teens but such a strange thing for adult people to spend time on. Additionally I am apparently terrible at it because I don’t use filters, don’t want to take 30 and try to figure out which one is best, don’t use an artificial lighting device, and don’t remember to think about the fact that you’ll be able to see my hand taking the picture in the reflection on my sunglasses. Selfies are too much work!

    Of all the “finds” I’ve saved on my phone this year girl, read your bible might be my favorite. I don’t eat kale or lift weights, but this piece reminds me where my soul rests and how to get back to rest when my soul is worked up or weary.

    This year has been so good and yet so hard, sometimes all on the same day. I’ve thought what is even happening right now over and over and over again. I’ve mulled over what we’re supposed to learn from all this and how to live more purposefully. Sometimes I thought I was killing it, and sometimes I thought I was failing at it. Some days I was happy with how I spent my time, and other days I wondered why I didn’t keep up with The Joneses and paint murals or translate an ancient text from Latin to English. Some days I thought I’d figured out my next step and maybe even my path and purpose, and other days I knew that what I’d thought the week before was all wrong.

    Perhaps only one thing was true on both day one and on day 365 of this quarantine year. Again, in the words of Michael Scott: I understand nothing.

  • Just Because

    This morning on the way home from an eye appointment with Ella, I saw my eagle. I feel such a kinship with this bird and this is the lowest and closest he has ever been flying near me. The pictures are not good because I didn’t think to get the phone/camera in time because I was too busy watching him and delighting in the moment, and also trying to convince my child I had not lost my mind because I wanted to pull over and really see him. But he was literally hovering over my car, maybe 10 feet above at one point.

    He’s my reminder of Isaiah 40:31 – But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

    He’s been my encouragement from God on many occasions. He appears and I hear softly whispered words in my mind: this is just a moment you’re having and this is for only a short time and you got this and this weariness will pass and just keep going.

    One of the songs I’m stuck on right now, that moves me to teary eyes every single time, is Champion by Dante Bowe and Bethel Music.

    You are my champion, giants fall when you stand undefeated…I am seated, in the heavenly place, undefeated, with the One who has conquered it all.

    A couple weeks ago as I was headed for a scary doctor’s appointment, one of my best friends reminded me that God sees three daughters in my family – He doesn’t just see Ella and Audrey as His daughters, but He also sees me as His daughter. I forget that sometimes. I am a Mom and a caregiver, but I am also a child. His child.

    And I was reminded of that again today, as my eagle flew right into my line of sight and hovered in seeming slow motion over and around me. In all the years I’ve lived here I have never seen my eagle that close. What a thrill and a blessing and a surprise and a shot of absolute joy. It was an unexpected gift from a Father to His daughter. Just because.

  • Dads and Dogs and Peace

    Dads and Dogs and Peace

    At least a thousand times in years 1-21, I heard my Dad say If you hang around with dogs, you’ll start barking like a dog. Even now at 46 years of age it sort of makes me want to roll my eyes.

    I hadn’t thought about that line in years until I recently heard this gem:

    You catch what you’re close to.

    It’s true for children and it’s true for adults. It’s true in our personal lives and in our professional lives. It’s true with the virus the world is watching right now. It’s true spiritually, regardless of what faith you practice. It’s true with belief systems and morals – the tendency to follow the belief systems of our families in our youth. You catch what you’re close to.

    Dozens of studies tell us that if we surround ourselves with people who focus on positivity, we’re more likely to find ourselves focused on the positive. If we surround ourselves with people who are committed to living with certain principles we are more likely to maintain commitment to principles. If our close friends commit crimes we are more likely to commit a crime.

    So it turns out, the old southern “you can’t waller with pigs and not get dirty” and “you can’t sleep with the dogs and not get fleas” are based on some science and more than just naggy parentisms. (The latter sleeping with dogs and fleas example makes me laugh more than it should for a variety of reasons.)

    Father’s Day has me thinking about the things that make my Dad my Dad, and the most important things I have learned from him. In contrast to evidence that you’re likely to hold the same belief systems as your parents, I do not think John Wayne is one of the greatest actors of all time.

    However, even though we tend to vote differently, on most of the really big things we agree. And it’s his example and his words that have been a lighthouse on every day with rough seas.

    One of my earliest memories of my Dad is of us kneeling in prayer. It’s so funny now to think about him in that environment, surrounded by Barbies and next to a frilly Holly Hobby canopy bed. He was showing me what is most important while also showing me that location isn’t important – we can spend time together and with God in the tiniest or the messiest of places. On a beach, in a car, in a fast food restaurant, in a parking lot, in a small apartment, in a church, on the steps at school…anywhere and everywhere my Dad has always made the most of his time with me.

    More than three decades later, when Audrey was about 3 months old, we received some concerning news about the cancer she was battling. One of my favorite moments with my Dad, which is also one of the biggest moments of learning from him, happened as I rocked her to sleep in her nursery. He stood next to me, again in a place surrounded by pink little girl things, with his hand on my shoulder, praying for me as I prayed for her. I was praying test results would show Audrey was cancer-free, while he was praying that I would have joy and peace.

    The job title parent doesn’t end when our children reach adulthood. That day I learned from my Dad what I had read about dozens of times but never really grasped – that peace is what guards our hearts and minds when we are struggling, that peace is how we are not alone, that peace is the path to authority and control, and that peace is the path to victory.

    Peace is what my Dad has passed to me over and over and over again. In his actions. In his words. In his prayers.

    You catch what you’re close to. Thanks, Dad, for Peace and peace. In my life, and in the lives of your granddaughters.

    My Dad. Fierce protector of teenage daughters, and even today at almost 80, questioning his teenage granddaughter about boys.
    This is the look that my Dad has when he thinks I’ve lost my mind, as I tried to explain that this was a way to get us both in the picture while standing apart for social distancing.
  • Old Testament Lessons

    Old Testament Lessons

    I recently watched Unorthodox on Netflix and am fascinated by some of the Jewish traditions shown in it. As I’ve been reading up on a couple, I realized that Passover begins tonight – in the middle of the Christian Holy Week.

    I’m not Jewish and I’ve not draped it correctly, but my heart is in the right place. I really love the idea of red on our entryway as a reminder that God delivered His people from destruction.

    It seems like the perfect visual to accompany a verse I’ve been focused on recently, from Job 11 (Good News Translation): You will live secure and full of hope; God will protect you and give you rest.

  • Go Go Go

    Go Go Go

    It was such a beautiful day today, even though I didn’t get to really see much of it. After 6 am Ancient Greece instruction for my 8-year old followed by a Food Lion run to secure TP and OJ followed by 9 meetings, I walked outside of the house – by myself – to our neighborhood circle, and just laid down in the grass.

    I didn’t care about allergies or mosquitos or wet earth on my hair and jeans or the people who walked by and tentatively asked if I was OK because they thought I was crazy. I just needed a few minutes of feeling not like a robot who must go go go.

    Go to help with school work. Go to work, even though it’s inside my house right now. Go to the market to keep the pantry stocked. Go to run errands for prescriptions and dry cleaning. Go to follow up on baths and teeth brushing. Go to prepare meals and do laundry and declutter and clean.

    Go. Go. Go.

    I already had a full schedule and now suddenly I am also not in the office where I’m organized as well as helping two children with distance learning. I am not patient or even that smart, and I don’t have any additional hours in the day.

    And in that maxed out moment today when I really wanted to give in to the desire to complain about all that’s on my plate, I reigned it in to focus on what all the GOing really means.

    I’m thankful to be able to work from home while my girls are out of school and while there’s so much uncertainty about sickness. I’m thankful all of my parents and my children are home and healthy and safe. I’m thankful to see my girls in the middle of the day and that they are always close by. I’m thankful that they share little musings and findings during the day, which is not something we normally can do. I’m thankful for made up games and pranks and dances and songs that make the girls giggle, and I’m thankful for the time to encourage culinary creativity.

    I’m thankful for technology that enables me to work remotely and that keeps us all occupied. I’m thankful for a stocked pantry. I’m thankful for my job and my work family. I’m thankful for messages and texts from friends and family near and far.

    I’m thankful for 20 minutes to myself today, to lay in the grass and feel alive and thankful again. And I’m guessing I will soon be thankful for Calamine and Benedryl. I’m thankful I take terrible selfies and can provide a source of laughter for teenagers.

    I’m thankful, thankful, thankful in all my go go go-ing.