Weighed Down

Sometimes life seems so heavy.  Things start to weigh us down.  We can feel suffocated by the number of things we are trying to process, take care of, and deal with.  We can feel overwhelmed with the heaviness of walking through yet another trial, when we'd rather find a detour.

We stay busy here at the troops, considering we only have two kids living at home during the school year.  Even though the other kids aren't here every day, they're still part of our lives and on our hearts.  We're still trying to help, encourage, support - in whatever way we can!  On one end, that looks like providing child care for our daughter who is a nurse... on the other end, it's a phone conversation with our kids in SC once every couple of weeks.  The other kids fall somewhere in the middle.

In spite of what I envisioned, being older hasn't made life easier.  We still stress over finances and disagree on priorities.  We still schedule too many appointments and try to fit in too many things each week.  Work is still stressful for the Coach and I still haven't cleaned the grout in the bathroom tile (will I ever?).

There's never enough time or money... there's always more on the list than we could possibly accomplish.  Things continue to break and need fixing.  People continue to be difficult.  Relationships falter, hearts get broken.  We feel excluded, left out, slandered.  We're getting older, our stuff is wearing out, and no amount of healthy lifestyle is going to keep us from aging.  Some days we are eating whole foods and getting enough sleep and others... not so much. Nothing makes me feel quite as old as chasing a toddler around, again.  

It's easy to get discouraged when we look at our world...our hearts...our families.  Everything broken in so many ways and no hope of being whole this side of heaven.

But on Sunday we celebrated the resurrection of our Savior - and He has conquered sin and death once and for all.  We may live between the already and the not yet (as Paul Tripp says), but we know the end of the story.  Jesus has already been victorious over the death and decay we feel every single day on this earth (says my hip that's been giving me fits this round of 1/2 marathon training). But we can have HOPE in the coming redemption.  

Without Jesus, the heaviness of this life would be unbearable.  But we can persevere in the strength of the Lord today - because we have bright hope for tomorrow.  He will make all things new, right every wrong, redeem what has been lost.  God is in the business of GIVING life and REDEEMING life and making things NEW.  And that's exactly what my heart needs, today.  Praise be to God.

A Thousand Lifetimes

I'm watching that green haze start to come over our trees.  Things starting to bloom and come to life.  The Coach's yard is beautiful as always.  This year the back is a project zone, but the front is still so lovely.

The seasons of life overlap - with the one before and the one that follows. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.  But also seasons of young and old, raising kids, changes in vocation.  Some of the seasons are sweet.  Some of them bitter.  Some painful and some filled with joy.  I keep hearing myself say what a SWEET season we are in right now.  It's not without challenges (as the 17 of us try to understand and love each other), but it's full of moments that fill my heart.

Some seasons feel like a lifetime ago.

I spent a lifetime pregnant - or it sure felt like it!  9 pregnancies in 11 years.  When I see pictures of those days, it feels like an out of body experience.  Ha!

I spent another lifetime nursing babies.  Sleep training.  Changing diapers.  Potty Training.  Some of those babies were easy going and some weren't.  Some slept well and some didn't (and still don't).  In spite of them all having the same parents, each one was SO unique and their own little person. 

I spent a lifetime at elementary programs and elementary basketball games.  IYKYK.  That's all.  OK... I miss the programs, they were precious.  Maybe a future season will have me back there with grand babies, Lord willing.

I've spent another lifetime at sporting events. Our troops who started out as football, volleyball and basketball players managed to pick up track, tennis, soccer and cross-country, along the way.  So thoughtful of them, don't you think?  And don't you dare suggest to the remaining high schooler that he should try out baseball or golf.  Thank you.  My hindquarters have spent many a season on bleachers.  For the most part, it's a been a blessing.

I spent a lifetime with toddlers and babies on my ankles trying to fix dinner and help with homework, desperate for the Coach to walk in the door.  That pre-dinner hour is rough with babies.  I know if you're there right now, you get it.

I've spent a lifetime with moody teens.  Or has it been thousands of lifetimes?  Some days have felt like years.  Jury is still out on the final outcome, but most days I'm betting on the Coach and me.  And when they get to the other side of that season, they sure are great humans.

I spent a lifetime in the oncology clinic and hospital floor.  Entire lifetimes over and over watching my boy battle cancer.  More than a lifetime of heart break and crying out to God.  And here, six years later, I couldn't be more grateful to have been the one God allowed to watch him win that battle. What a gift.

But in spite of all of the lifetimes we've lived?

I'm going to spend the rest of my life soaking in those grand baby snuggles.  A lifetime reading "Seven Silly Eaters" and swinging on the porch and Face timing the aunts.  I'm going to spend what life I have left loving my people and watching them laugh and taking in the JOY of seeing them in their own lives, loving Jesus and others, serving so well, living lifetimes of their own and getting to have a front row seat.

I want to enjoy another lifetime of birthday family dinners and printed out pictures of gifts I didn't order in time.  Homemade meatballs and sheet cake and the candles I always forget to buy.  Mema's birthday banner and Grandmother's birthday balloons and home movies from when we had to use an actual video camera.  A lifetime of "bumping up and down in my little red dragon."

I hope for at least another lifetime to share every day with my Coach.  Pouring out our thoughts while we run, watching a show while holding hands on the couch, making each other laugh, arguing debating over theology (I'm difficult like that), going on coffee dates, being partners in every part of life.  Outside of Jesus, He has been life's greatest gift to me.  

Whatever lifetimes I have left, I want to spend them thanking God for His goodness and praising Him for His faithfulness.  A lifetime singing of the goodness of God.  It will never be enough.

So Many Things

On Friday, the Coach and I worshipped with friends as they celebrated the life of their son who passed away after suffering from a traumatic brain injury for four and a half years.  We had prayed for his healing here on earth - he's now fully restored and healed and in the presence of Jesus.  A young life worth celebrating - and a faithful God worth worshipping.

I can't imagine the heart ache of losing a child.  I've watched way too many people that I love walk that road.  The holidays are especially painful.  Not that you can rate the daily pain in any real way.  It's all horrible and unbearable.  

Others I love have experienced estrangement and relational separation from their child.  I can't imagine that pain, either.  We've watched God restore in some of those lives.  Others remain unresolved.  I understand more every day what a sweet friend said to me when our son was so sick.  "At least it's just physical."  At the time, that confused me.  Our pain was so raw.  But I know what she meant.  We had our relationship with him and we all had our relationships with the Lord.  Broken relationships can be some of the most painful things we experience in this life.

I don't understand so many things.  We have our boy.  I'm thankful every day.  When I watch him with his precious little family and that darling baby - I am fully aware of the fact that it's a gift.  An unexpected and undeserved gift from God.  He's here with us and we've had the joy of watching him grow, marry, become a father... I don't take it for granted.  It's an unspeakable gift.

That doesn't take away from the pain that so many others are experiencing without their children this Christmas.  I wake in the night and early in the morning - and I pray for them.  I don't understand.  But I trust that God meets them in their suffering. 

I will never say that there's a reason for it all.  The only reason I see is that this world is broken. Sin brought death into this world - and we see it all around us.  Accidents, cancer, illness... it's all an effect of sin being in this world.  We can't avoid death - even though we can sometimes postpone it for a later date.  Sin brought death and death is waiting for all of us.

Every single day - but especially in the Christmas season - I'm reminded both of the blessing of healthy kids and the suffering of the precious people I love who have children in heaven - that GOD BECAME MAN and dwelt among us.  

The suffering doesn't make sense to me.  So many things don't.  Never will.

But I have hope.  Jesus, the incarnation of God, came to our broken world and died on our behalf so that we can experience LIFE.  Eternal life, absolutely.  But also life here and now.  We can walk in the midst of heart ache and suffering and death - and still have hope.  That's such a miracle to me.

So many have asked us how we walked that road with our son - a dismal diagnosis and the treatment that followed for three and a half years.  So many hospital stays and ER visits and more pain and tears than I can count.  I don't really know, honestly. We believed that God was in control and we trusted Him, whatever the outcome.  Which I realize is so easy to say on THIS side of it all.  When we still have our boy with us.  So many don't.  I feel that every single day.

So many things I don't understand.  But a God who loves us.  He gave HIS son for all of us.  In some tiny human way?  I get that.  I get watching your child suffer.  I understand the hopelessness of it all.  But I'm so very thankful that I can see the ending.  The redemption.  The HOPE.  The life.

If you are suffering this Christmas season, I'm praying for you.  I don't understand so many things.  But GOD offers us His Son, His presence, His HOPE.  Take hold of that and don't let go.  

Merry Christmas.

Happy 28th, Coach!

The Coach and I celebrate 28 years, today.  After a whirlwind courtship and an 8 week engagement, on a beautiful sunny December Saturday, the Coach and I became husband and wife.  We really didn't know each other, but we knew the important things.  I knew he loved God and wanted to obey whatever calling God placed on his life.  He's been faithful to that every day since.  And I still laugh thinking about when Elisabeth Elliot Gren asked me (when discussing our courtship), "But are you attracted to him?"  Haha!  Yes.  That, too.  

We're not perfect, our marriage isn't perfect, but we've learned a lot in 28 years.  I enjoy every moment with him.  We love to work side by side, and both of us feel like things haven't really happened until with share them with each other.  The Coach has grown into the most thoughtful, kind partner.  His determination to do right is still there, but it's become tempered with an abundance of grace. I'm so thankful, because I've needed a lot of grace!

If I could say one thing about how I've grown as a wife - from my perspective, not his - I would say I've learned to communicate my expectations more clearly.  And I think I've learned to give HIM a lot more grace.

When we had so many little ones and he was coaching two sports - I was often upset when he had to work late or be gone every evening.  It was hard!  All of these years later, I realize his heart is to do the best he can at whatever God has given him to do.  Coaching, teaching, leading... and he's learned to direct that desire to be the best he can be to our marriage and to our parenting, as well.  I couldn't be more thankful for the husband and father he is.  He never quits working to learn and grow and invest in all of us.

And without babies hanging on my legs at 6 pm every evening?  It's certainly easier to be happy when he walks in the door - no matter what time that is.  Every day together is a gift.

One year ago today, we were in Florida on an anniversary trip together - such a sweet few days in the sun.  This year we're home with a houseful and planning for an even fuller house next week.  I'm so grateful for all of it.  The special days and the every day ones.  The trips and the mornings at home.  I would love to have another 28 years of it all.  

We've had some rough years in the last 28.  But I'm thankful for this especially sweet season - with grown kids and the grand babies that bring SO much joy.  My Coach is such a handsome Pops.  Ha!

And for now?  I'm going to refill my coffee and tell the Coach, once again, how thankful I am for this life we share.  Such a sweet gift from God.

Merry Chirstmas!

Every Day a Gift

When you've faced your own mortality (or your child's), it changes your perspective on life.  Like a LOT.  I remember in the darkest of the dark days, thinking, "OK.  Today is a gift and we're going to find the JOY."  And for the most part?  I think we did.

I wish those kinds of lessons continued to "stick" as time passes.  But I'm forgetful.  And if I'm not careful, I'm so soon back to feeling less than gift-like about my day to day life.

Truly we aren't promised tomorrow.  Psalm 39 says “O LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!  Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you.  Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!"

Even though today IS a gift, I may still have to drag myself out of bed regardless of whether or not I slept well.

Even though today IS a gift, the clothes and dishes and houses will still get dirty and must be cleaned.

Even though today IS a gift, everyone will still wants to eat 3 meals a day.

Maybe it's less about living every day in a picture perfect Hallmark movie (and I'm a big fan - ha!) and more about finding the GIFT in the messy reality.  Is it truly possible to live above your circumstances?  I believe it is.  My execution of that is somehwat elusive.  Can I be joyful when I don't feel well?  Can I be faithful when someone is disloyal?  Can I forgive when behavior doesn't change?  Can I love when I'm not loved in return?

I'm grateful that later on in Psalm 39, we read, "And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?  My hope is in you."

Because even though I'm less than a "gift" to my family most days, I can still find hope.  God doesn't redeem us and leave us to ourselves.  He continues to work and move and refine and grow us.  

So if today feels like less than a gift at your house?  Trust that God still has a purpose and a plan for THIS DAY.  He can be honored and glorified in your life no matter what this day holds.  Even in the tired messes and the messy relationships.

I'm so thankful for hope.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

In just a couple of weeks, the troops will assemble again - to celebrate Christmas.  I can't wait.  When Son #4 got married this Summer, the only time all of us were together was at the actual wedding.  I may not like it, but that is reality with a big family - there are jobs and kids and obligations that keep us from being together as often as we'd like.

And since that last Summer wedding, we've welcomed another grandson into the troops.  Our original 10 now number 16.  How awesome is that?

I can't wait to hug all of their necks - and my favorite things of all?  To watch them all together, laughing, talking, giving each other a hard time (always).  Playing with the babies and doing puzzles and eating cinnamon rolls.  It's truly the best gift I could every receive.

But the best thing of all?  Is that when they all leave and go back to their own homes - I'll miss them terribly - but I'll still be sitting here beside my Coach, thankful every day to be his wife, enjoying life with him, even though we're old and crazy tired.

Each time this song plays in my Christmas playlist, it reminds me.  So. Very. Blessed.  I truly do have all I want for Christmas.  

So yes, things keep changing here at the troops.  The day to day is quieter.  The times we're all together are even crazier.  But at the end of the day, we're about to celebrate 28 years together - and it just keeps getting sweeter.

I miss it.

Reading a post on Instagram today, I was reminded of how I used to crawl into bed at night and ask the Coach, "We'll make it, right?"  The first year our son was fighting cancer, I quit asking.  It became harder to ask and the answer might not have been what I wanted to hear.  

But I'm still thinking it.  So often, I'm thinking it.  I want security and safety and I want things to stay enough the same that they feel comfortable to me.

How unfortunate for me that life isn't like that AT ALL.  Ha!  Not much about life (especially with 16 of us, now) is secure.  It's definitely not safe!  If I wanted safety, I shouldn't have married or had eight kids to begin with.  And honestly?  No one is promised any of those things.  They say the only things we can be sure of are death and taxes.  But there's one more thing you're guaranteed in this life... change.

I went down a rabbit trail reading old posts.  I miss writing here.  I miss the funny things the kids did that prompted the writings.  The days at home with little ones who needed me.  The laundry (well, we still seem to keep the baskets bizarrely full with just four of us), the endless meals and school projects and basketball games and dishes.  For the first time since roughly 2004?  We don't have a basketball player in the house.  Sad.

I miss it all because it meant my people were all here.  My people.  In their noisy, messy chaos.  And I loved it.  And in spite of my many failings?  I was good at managing it all.  I didn't see that THEN, of course.  It felt wildly out of control.  But it was relatively... well... amazing.  And I thrived there.  

This season has it wonder and delights, as well.  No doubt about it!   Being Marmee is the joy of my life, currently.  I adore those babies and I'm so blessed to have flexibility to be a part of their sweet little lives.  God gives the best gifts.  

But for the most part, it's quiet here, now.  I look back, read those posts and think how I loved those days being their momma.  I've loved watching them grow up, too.  I've loved watching them one by one as they've found their person and started lives on their own.  It's beautiful.  

But it's a lot of change.  And it's happened so fast.

I guess that's what I'm thinking tonight.  In the end?  We've made it.  Not that we don't have lots of life left (those grandsons are the best!), but we've survived the parenting season, for the most part.  The two who are left might be pushing us to the limits?  But we're old and seasoned and it takes a lot to rattle us at this point.  My money is on the Coach and me.  We'll make it.  

If I could have understood - in those days when all of the kids had the flu at once - how fast it would go?  If I could have seen that it was just a breath - and I'd look back years later - and miss it?  That I would be laughing at some of the things that were making me cry, at the time?

Probably wouldn't have made it any easier, honestly.  

But from this end?  I'm so thankful.  So so thankful.  For all of it.  What sweet days and what sweet memories. Even the hard ones.

No matter where you are in YOUR journey?  Home with little ones or sitting in the quiet empty nest?  You'll make it, too.  God is good and God is faithful.  You can trust Him.