Maybe I Should Have Turned Around Sooner

I walk to reset.  Physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  Preferably where no concrete nor buildings can be seen, but where at least a little bit of water can.  Where dogs can run free and there are more dragonflies than people. 

I have my favorite places, but they're a little too far when I only have an afternoon, so I tried somewhere new today.  A little closer to home. 

Just a couple of miles in, the levy I wasn't supposed to be on came to an end.  It was on one end of a lake, so I thought I'd just keep going and make a circle, eventually.  I looked for the trails indicated on my map, but the only ones I found were being used exclusively by spiders. 

But, I ran into a fence, so I followed that.  Until it came to another fence.  And the only way to keep going was to get really skinny and squeeze through a poorly aligned gate.  So, I did that, and my dog did the same. 

The grass was tall and there was no trail to speak of, so I consulted Google maps and saw a road within walking distance, so I just kept going.

But, what Google maps didn't show, was another fence that met another fence between me and the road, and no way out except the way I came. 

Ugggghh.  My dog and I were four plus miles into this thing, shade wasn't nearly as plentiful as the sun, and the thought of trudging back the way we came was more than I had time, energy, or water for. 

So, I did something I've never done before.  I dropped a pin and called for help.  My husband does Search and Rescue for a living, so I thought I'd give him a chance to rescue his wife.  And he did.

I hung my Camelback on the fence as a signpost and waited in the shade with my dog and the fire ants. 

As we waited, I relished the relief I was feeling and remembered something I read once about being rescued...  

"Stranded and starving, somebody has to get packed up and sent off into the unknown for food, taking what water is left, hacking a way through the undergrowth, hoping somehow to forge a path to something somewhere.  But then the noise of a helicopter, and rescue approaching.  That changes everything.  The one thing needed now is some space, so that what is coming can come...God is an approaching God, and our main job will not be to construct but to receive; the key word will be not so much 'achievement' as 'space'.  Making space for God in order to receive."

Nothing more to do, but wait, and receive (and answer a few questions).   

 

"Now, tell me again why you couldn't just go back the way you came?"

...

"You'd understand if you saw the way we came."  

This all reminds me of one my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes.  "If two men are traveling in the wrong direction, the man who turns around the soonest is the most progressive man."

I'm sure the other guy, had there been one, would have been the most progressive man today. 

But, he would have deprived himself of the opportunity to receive and his spouse of an opportunity to be a knight in shining armor.  He wouldn't have had an opportunity to remember that God is an approaching God, and his sock line probably would have been embarassingly unnoticeable.  I mean, you can't get those just anywhere.

Twenty Years Later

Twenty years ago, on March 20, 1994, I awoke to a knock on the door early in the morning.  My Mom's brother and best friend were standing there.  They told me my Mom had been in a car accident, and flown to a bigger city for the "right kind of doctor", and something about a hurt back.  I remember thinking that she probably wouldn't be able to lift anything heavy for awhile, but not much beyond that.  When we drove to see her later that day, I found her all puffy lying in a bed with a metal halo attached to her skull, abrasions on her arms, in a room that smelled like blood and medicine, I guess.  Oddly enough, I don't remember anything about her left wrist which was completely shattered.  Worst fracture the orthopedist has seen in 10 years, as I recall.  I remember asking about how she got this mark, or that mark, and when she answered that she didn't know, she sounded like a robot and said something like "I'll be fine." 

Unlike my older sister, I don't remember being told that she'd never walk again.  Maybe that happened during the following week when I was gone on my high school spring break choir trip to Disneyworld.  I didn't want to go, but everyone felt it was best.  Mom was going to live, and beyond that, there wasn't anything I could offer by staying.  So, I went. 

For the following three months, Mom lived in the rehabilitation hospital, re-learning how to eat, brush teeth, bathe, and basically, survive.  This is the same hospital I visited, so she could see me in my junior Prom dress.  The same hospital where we slowly learned what our new life would look like.  Throughout this time, my younger brother and I lived with our aunt and uncle.  We were 16 and 14.

My mother became a quadriplegic on that fateful night, 20 years ago.  She broke her neck and left wrist.  She was 43-years-old.  It has been a long, long road.  Lots of things come with a lack of mobility.  Bed sores, incontinence, pneumonia, blood clots, digestive issues, chronic pain, total lack of privacy and self-sufficiency, and all manner of emotional and psychological adjustments besides. 

But, none of these are why I'm writing today.  Today, I am thankful for what I have gained from walking with my Mom through part of her journey.  Through it all, I was only her right-hand lady for  about four years, and a back-up beyond that.  But, I learned a lot in 4 years.  I wish that I could say that I served her well.  But, I was often bitter and unkind.  However, twenty years later, my experiences with her are still positively impacting the decisions I make. 

On Monday, I am going to embark on a new chapter in my life - pursuing hospital chaplaincy.  This begins with a 10-week internship at a local hospital, and will follow with a Master's degree in Pastoral Theology.  I could not feel more suited or more excited.  Because of my mother's accident, I took the course to become an Emergency Medical Technician during my Senior year of high school.  From there, I worked in our county's EMS service and emergency room through college and beyond.  I loved the people, I loved the work, and I loved the environment. 

As my youngest starts kindergarten next year, it is time for me to expand my stay-at-home-mom gig.  As Providence would have it, all of my personal experience, work experience, and passion about the spiritual life are coming together as a new vocation.  I am going to be a hospital chaplain. 

I'm with my Mom and all fellow Christians when I repeat Romans 8:28 from the bottom of my heart,

We know that all things work for good for those who love God - who are called according to his purpose.

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for my Mom.  Thank you for preserving her life.  Thank you for her perseverance, her forgiveness, and her continual effort to grow closer to You.  Thank you for my aunt and uncle who absorbed us into their lives, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.  Please give me the grace to imitate them, when others look to me for something they should be receiving from someone else.  Thank you for my co-workers through my EMS years, and for their model of Christianity in the workforce.  Thank you for all of the opportunities You have afforded me because of another's misfortune.  Thank you for all of the things that seem easy, because of going through something really hard.  Please purify all of the good that I do poorly today, and all of the days of my life.  Please bless my pursuit to become a hospital chaplain, if that is in fact Your Will for me.  If not, please take away my desire and replace it with Yours.  Amen       

Confrontation for Christ

I've been praying for the courage to be bold for Christ for two years now.  Today, I got some. 

My husband had to work today, so I was at Mass with my three boys.  One section over, slightly in front of where we were sitting, were two beautiful, college-aged girls.  The beautiful girls were wearing shirts that left their backs and shoulders completely exposed, animal-print bra showing, and at best, a skirt that landed mid-thigh.

I was shocked at their lack of discretion, but also remembered being ignorant of affecting others with my clothing choices in my youth.  I found them to be a continual distraction through Mass, and felt more and more certain that I was being called to "fraternally correct" these girls.  So, after receiving communion, I wrote them a little note that went something like this:

Beautiful Girls,

When I was your age, I did not know that bare skin was a distraction and obstacle for men.  (I wish someone had told me).  In an effort to help them praise and worship their God, please consider dressing more consciously for Mass.

I only communicate this for love of God, your beautiful selves, and the Body of Christ.

Thank you for your consideration. (end)

I exited my pew and handed it to one of the girls in the aisle, saying "Here's something for your consideration."  She looked at me suspiciously, and I walked away. 

I felt nervous, but was pretty sure I had done the right thing by all.  Until they caught up with me in the parking lot as I was getting into my car (they were already in theirs).  Then, they let me have it.  Their comments went something like...

"So, you had to write it down;  You couldn't tell us to our face?  You must not have been paying attention in Mass if you were writing.  You were too busy judging us.  Some women can't wear whatever they want.  We can wear whatever we want.  This is why some people don't even come to Mass.  You are the only one who had a problem with it.  No one else said anything..." 

I listened patiently (although I was shaking inside).  I tried to explain that I thought they were beautiful, but that the men had to work twice as hard to pray and worship because of the distraction.  They told me how fake I was being.  So, I walked away, and they peeled out of the parking lot. 

Yuck. 

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling so confident in my decision.

My boys were already in the car and privy to all that transpired.  "Mom, were those girls being mean to you?!"  I said "Yes.  I wrote them a note encouraging them to dress more respectfully when they come to God's house, and that made them mad."

I was expecting a chorus of disapproval because my boys hate confrontation (like me!).  But, my oldest said, "Mom, I think God would be very happy for what you did."  Whoa.  He took my breath away.  This is the kid who finds fault with almost everything I do, so the weight of his timely compliment was tremendous.  I was and am extremely grateful, and made sure to let him know.

I was aching for some reassurance, but am really trying to lean on God alone this Lenten season, so I said a little prayer.  "Lord, I really want to share this with somebody, but I want to trust in You more.  So, if you want me to talk to someone about it, please have them call me." 

Crickets.  That's what I was afraid of. 

Fortunately, we had a wonderful afternoon at a friend's house, celebrating her baby girl's baptism, and I was able to keep mum on the whole thing.  I did share with my husband when we got home, and he said he was proud of his "soldier".  I thought he was going to be embarrassed, but instead just laughed that I pulled the "When I was your age" card.  So, I'm feeling better about it as the night winds down, but might reconsider praying for courage tomorrow. ;)

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for another gorgeous day, for new souls added to the Christian family, for great-grandmothers who have 10 children, 29 grandchildren, and their wits.  Thank you for the example of the Christian families who are open to life.  Thank you for the Eucharist and the priests who make celebrating Mass and receiving You possible.  Thank you for answering our prayers.

Lord, please bless those beautiful girls and all who are tempted to use their God-given beauty to draw others to themselves.  Please convict them of Your love, and grant them wisdom, prudence, and modesty.  Please help them overlook my faults, so that they may know the good that You intend for them.

Lord, I hope I pleased You today, as I made three people very uncomfortable.  Lord, please continue to give me the courage to act for You, and out of love for my brothers and sisters.  I believe it is true that you call us to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.  Please grant me wisdom and charity, Lord.  I never want to be a stumbling block for those who are seeking You.  Please help me to rest in Your opinion, alone.  Amen.  

Chopped Liver and Boy-Packed Lunches

I read something today that explains a lot. 

In New Guinea, "Children were considered babies until they lost their front teeth.  When this happened, the little boys of the tribe left their mothers and went to live with the men in the village.  Fathers then took over the nurturing of their sons and the mothers raised the girls." - A Mother's Touch by Elise Arndt

Ohhhhhhh.  My middle son just lost both of his front teeth and not so coincidentally, I am chopped liver at my house.  No, I am not exaggerating.  Every night the two older boys fight over who gets to sit by Daddy at the dinner table.  The one who loses (who has to sit by me) is usually close to tears.

Just this afternoon, the youngest was down for a nap, the middle one was gone with Daddy, and my oldest was watching a movie.  Before, I sat down with a book and a cup of coffee, I asked him, "Are you happy watching the movie, or would you like to do something with me?"  He asked, "Why?"  I said "because if you don't want to do something together, I'm going to sit down and read."  He said, "You can do whatever you want to do."  So, I happily plopped down with my book, after being dismissed by my second-grader.

Just thought I'd share in case you are also experiencing being "phased out".  It's normal.

On a different note, I visited a friend last week and was able to see her "Kids Contribution" poster hanging up in her kitchen.  A gold mine in plain view for my plundering!  However, after laying my eyes on the "Pack your lunch" item, I had everything I needed.  Thank you, Julia!  Thank you, Amy for suggesting it to her!  Thank you, Elizabeth for pairing them up in your Titus mentor Mom program!  (Have you read Spiritual Mothering by Susan Hunt?  I never finished it, but would love to donate it to your cause, if you should want it.)

So, this last week, my boys started packing their own lunch.  This is coming at the perfect time, because just the week before, my husband was (unusually) home during our get-ready-for-school routine.  He was very unimpressed with my boys lack of respect and appreciation when fielding my questions about what to put in their lunch box.  Problem solved.

Another unforeseen benefit, is that one of my kiddos is a slow mover in the mornings.  In order for him to have time to pack his lunch, he has to keep moving.  If he doesn't, there is a natural consequence waiting for him - he has to eat school lunch.  Hee hee.  I just love natural consequences.

Oh, I almost forgot --in fact, I did forget, and came back to add this in-- Not having to make my sons' lunches returns time to my schedule, which allows me to sit with them at the breakfast table and read The Lives of the Saints.  Major bonus.

Another thing Julia mentioned (and which also came up this weekend in conversation with another), was encouraging our children to ask the question, "Is there anything I can do to help?"  We need to encourage the spirit of service.  This is my next quest.  Thank you, friends.

Dear Heavenly Father,  Thank you for last night's Confession with a new priest and the gift of Yourself in the Eucharist this morning!  Thank you for lessons from New Guinea.  Thank you for the gift of friendship and writing on the wall.  Thank you for loaning my boys to me.  Please "help me to do all I can to prepare them for the day when You will call them home. Thank you for the humility gained in motherhood.  I love You and can palpably feel Your love for me.  Thank you.  Amen.