Loving like God

A few years ago, I felt challenged by God to love someone like He loves them. This person was acting very "unlovable" at the time. I had some assumptions about how loving them like this would look. What I assumed I would do was that no matter how they treated me I would be kind, be there for them, and lavish them with whatever loving thing that I could think of. While that is not completely wrong, I have learned that the love of God is so much more than that. And that I am so very grateful that it is more.

I know I didn't do it perfectly. I'm human and my own emotions and hurt feelings get in the way. Even though painful at times, it has changed my heart and helped me in how I am able to understand God's love for me. I recognized so many of my mistakes in how I view God, when I was able to see them mirrored in another's behavior.

The person I referred to earlier, ignored me and misunderstood me, treated me coldly, when I had offered care and concern. It nearly took my breath away, when I realized I had been doing the same thing to God. I had been thinking that I am just too hurt for Him to possibly understand what I was going through. He was distant, uncaring. It sounds absurd to put into words like that, but that's it. I realized that is not the truth. Is it possible that His heart was just as broken by my grief as it was when I turned inward instead of to Him?

This person made poor decisions and had wrong attitudes, but I wasn't able to say anything about it because I didn't have permission. Even if it would save heartache and loss, I wouldn't be heard unless they had asked the question of me. God does the same for us. I go about my life, but shake my fists at God when despair comes. I ask for general wisdom, but is my heart open and ready for answers if I ask a question. Do I actually want to hear "No, you are not doing the right thing." Ouch.


At first when I was ignored, I made an effort to be there constantly. After all, doesn't the bible say that God "never leaves or forsakes us" ? So, if that is my model, my voice should always be an echo in the background "I'm always here for you."  Right?

I realized that is NOT the way God is with us. Yes, He is always there when we turn to Him. He is NOT, however, like a desperate slobbering dog, craving whatever little attention we will throw His way. Would you want to love a God like that, or even a friend like that? He is always there, but allows us to come to him. He does not NEED me, but he does WANT me.

I had many good conversations with this person, mostly about their life, joys and sorrows, hopes and dreams. I felt loved to hear all of these things and I know they felt loved to be heard. I also was hurt because there was a lack of interest in those same things in my own life. Again, I learned something. I am so grateful for a God who hears me and knows me, to whom I can pour out my heart. Unfortunately, I often stop there. How much of His love am I missing out on because I fail to KNOW HIM. When one person shares his or her heart and life, it is not just the sharer that benefits. The listener is likely to feel loved as well by the act of someone confiding in them. To know and be known, that is where I am truly loved. Is God so different? He knows us in and out already, but still wants us to share our hearts with Him. It is also an act of love for us to want Him to share His great heart with us. We are able to know His love in a deeper way by knowing Him.

What I know.

I'm having a hard day today.

My precious baby Lydia, or Yidda as we like to call her, has been having some muscle issues. She is very low tone and isn't very motivated to become any stronger. We have a physical therapist coming once a week to work with her. At this point, we are sort of in limbo, figuring out what exactly the problem might be. The range of options runs from simply weakness and lack of ambition to whatever horrible thing we may find on the brain scan we have scheduled.

The idea is that I would work with her on specific exercises during the week and gradually make progress. Some days that works. Others, I find that idea laughable. Those are the days when I'm glad everyone is alive and somewhat fed at the end of the day. I can't seem to find time to do "5 reps of standing and reaching", when I am worried about Charlotte turning into a human sled, or the walls remaining in an upright position.

So, of course, I feel guilty. That the whole thing is probably my fault. If I worked harder. If I  was better organized. If I had a better memory. If I didn't leave her in her bouncy seat while I folded clothes, cleaned the bathroom, or had a cup of tea. If I hadn't tearfully begged my OB doctor to induce me 2 weeks early because I was MISERABLE with this enormous baby in my belly.

I have a battle in my mind. I can drown in that sadness and guilt and things that may never be. Or I can rehearse what I do know.

I know this is the little girl who is an enormous blessing from God. She is our "surprise" child that I didn't think to ask for. That fact makes me all the more grateful that she is here.
I know God put it on my heart before she was born that she would be "a tender soul and a comfort to those she meets." She is.
I know God is my strength in times of trouble and is always ready to help.
I know no matter what needs doing I WILL do it. If she needs major medical intervention, we'll do that.

I know that if Lydia never walks, then I will carry her. And I think I could honestly thank God for that opportunity.

An Anniversary List

Funnel Cake
Dressage
Body...of...Christ...
Pizza & a TREAT!
Complete Stops
Candy Corns...Like 'em?
Blue Socks
For you, forever.
Daily parades.
Hail, hail the conquering guy!
The hassle.
Refuse disposal!
Care for a frickin' coke?
Madeline
Tuna and saltines.
Sydney and a mango.
Rosa
2004?
Chicken and peas.
Die-Be-betes
Elsa
Sleep?
Watch it, I'll go all Alt. Ed on you.
Charlotte
Elmo and Bocelli
A Snake with wheels.
You are .... Neo
Lydia
'puters
Sad mommies
What, are you new to this?

How do you make a list that defines more than 11 years together? Well, you either stop where I did or you go on and on (and on and on). Especially, when most of it only makes sense to the one who shares this anniversary with me. We've lived through some very difficult things together and some unimagined bliss. One of the greatest things Aaron has ever said to me is, if he somehow knew at the beginning everything we would go through, he would do it all again to just be with me.

I must say I feel exactly the same way.

Beauty Defined

I think about it as I sit in conversations with other ladies. They talk about painting in shades of brown or beige. Very different, you know. You're so very daring if you chose a DARK brown or a little safer with a lovely sage green. It seems like there is a very specific definition of what is beautiful and anything outside of that is just unacceptable. Fashion trends are in there too. Right now, as mommies, scarves seem to be very "in". I've got a lovely purple one in my closet. I sit in a conversation with friends who have very similar tastes and nod as they agree on what is deemed to be so very beautiful. Later, I think about the stuff I think is beautiful.

I like sparkly, shiny, definitely soft. I am a fan of rhinestones and sequins and jeweled beads. I like red and purple, ballet pink and green. If I could afford it, I would wear dresses and heels often. I love emeralds and sapphires and would like to own some of them. I love a dining room table with an eclectic blend of chairs. I like cloth napkins, napkin rings, tin ceilings, jadeite dishes, mismatched place settings in various shades of white, and flowers in my hair. I want a cherry red couch with some embroidered eggplant pillows.

With decorating, I feel like, if I see it every day, then it only matters if I like it. It is freeing to think style doesn't have to live up to a mysterious standard written down... somewhere. I haven't found any such thing at the library yet. I think the most beautiful spaces are the ones where you enter and feel welcome, comfortable, and loved. The best people are the ones that make you feel that way too.

I may give up on the heels. They are just not practical for playing a lot of "Red light, Green light" or potty training. They also make me taller than my husband. I can compromise ..... a little. The red couch, however, will be in my living room.

Resolution?

I made a New Years' resolution of sorts this year. I decided that I was going to try to speak up and always speak honestly. I don't think I have been doing so well. Trying but not always succeeding.

A situation that bugs me is when people use "How are you doing?", as a greeting. They don't really want to know. You can tell they aren't going to listen to more than "Fine." My thought was, if people ask, I should answer honestly. The best I've been doing with my answers is when I am asked, I give a very pointed, "I am doing okay." It's almost honest.

I had a situation today where I realized that I am staying in my familiar patterns of keeping to myself. I had my feelings hurt. I was talking with some people and I started to share something that I had learned. I was misunderstood and interrupted. Rather than speak up for myself, I just shut up. It is easier that way.

Shall I continue to try? With baited breath, the entire world waits to hear what I am thinking about! Hoards of loving friends are on edge, desperate to hear the answer to "How are you really doing?"


I am okay.

Too many pockets

I saw a great thing between an old couple today. I was in a Doctor's waiting room for an appointment for Lydia. A 5 month old with a cold, at nap time was just a little stressful. Surprisingly enough, we were on time, so as we waited and watched everyone in the waiting room (even those who had arrived after me) called in for their appointments, Lydia ramped up the crabby and we bounced and swayed. This couple most likely in their 80's checked in and took a seat on a couch to wait. The wife was maybe five feet tall and shrunken as age insists on doing to women. Her husband was tall and had the large hands, ears and nose which seems to be the gift of years to men. They both had white hair. Hers in a neat little 'do. His flapping around on top after being out in the wind. I think the appointment was his, and they were looking at the paperwork needed together.


He began to search for something in his pockets, patting , digging and lifting his coat and vest. He mumbled something about having too many pockets. Soon after she asked him if he'd found it yet, and with a sly smile told him,


"The problem is, you've got too many pockets."


He responded, "You know, I've got too many pockets."


Without being able to hear the tone of the conversation, it could seem to be the words of two people that weren't listening to each other or the onset of a shortened memory. What I heard seemed to be an ongoing joke between the two about this man and his numerous pockets. I could have been reading into it, seeing what I wanted to see, but it made me grin and laugh to myself. As I overheard them, I wanted to know their story. How do you make each other laugh after so long? How did you make it through your tough stuff (because I know they had to have it) and come out enjoying each other's company? Maybe someday I will be brave enough to be that crazy lady who asks complete strangers extremely personal questions. This was not that day.


I want to be crazy in love with my husband when I am old. I am now, and have no plans for it to be any other way. We have talked about wanting to live a "magical" life. Hard stuff happens. I know that. I want to do well with it. Life is hard enough without making it harder with stupid choices and heartbreak you can avoid. I never want to knowingly do something that hurts this best friend of mine in any way. The magic comes with living your life with someone else on your mind.

The Truth of Love

I have been struggling through Post Partum Depression. It has been very difficult for me. I am naturally a happy person. It is hard for me to understand or know what to do with the overwhelming sadness and panic attacks. What is probably the most difficult is the reoccurring feeling of not being loved. I know this feeling is not a true one for many reasons. I have a husband who loves me unconditionally, 3 girls who crave love and affection, and family who are vocal in their love for me. These are the things that I am constantly reminding myself of, because I'm not sure what else to do. It starts to feel true though, in the day to day isolation and through choices others make that are out of my control.


I know this didn't just begin recently. Beginning almost seven years ago, I suffered the tragedy of the first of 2 miscarriages. It seems almost absurd to be able to sum up that experience in one sentence. I got pregnant for the first time after my husband and I had just come through a very dark time in our lives. It seemed to be a light at the end of all that, only to be plunged into an even blacker hole. There are parts of my life at that time that I don't even remember.

Some people come through something like that able to grieve for their lost child and move on. It wasn't (and isn't) as simple as that for me. The loss of my child was connected to something much greater, in how I viewed God. I grieved for the lost hopes and dreams for our little one, but I was ripped apart by the silence from God. I had trusted Him and believed whole-heartedly that he loved me like no one else in the world ever could. I felt that I would even suffer through the tragedy, but needed desperately the comfort we are promised from Him. I felt none of that. If He could abandon me in this way, what does that say for the less than perfect world around me?