Stormy Changes

  Time to hunker down.

  Last night I was tucking my two youngest into bed, and by that I mean falling asleep smack dab in the middle, when all three of us were startled by a CRASH*Bang*thumpthumpthump.  My littlest woke from a sound sleep, eyes popping open to mutter, "what was that?"  Her older brother clutched me from behind and whimpered his complete undoing during the windstorm.  He's had a phobia of strong weather ever since he was caught on the lacrosse field during a brewing storm.  Lightening had appeared on the horizon and seemed to stretch it's finger to the ground amidst a deafening clap of thunder.  That particular squall had blown in on a tremendously strong wind.  My husband and six of the seven children were present during that traumatizing event.  Most of the kids were coaching or practicing while I was less than a mile down the street...in the gym.  I saw no issue in getting a good workout in while the kids were doing the same.  The youngest wanted to go to the gym's childcare and we had every intention of  catching the last few minutes of practice. 

  Well, I never did have to run over to the field to see them...they came to me...and had my name announced over the loud speaker.  One look at my husband's face while a hysterically crying, little boy clung to his leg silenced my, "Wow...the wind has really picked u..." unnecessary comment.  Some of the older kids were shooting rain-soaked daggers at my flushed face while others were trying to disappear into the carpet to escape questioning glances and outright stares of passing patrons.  My family's sopping exhibition was a sight to behold.  I wanted to join the crew seeking escape as my husband's "exasperated" tone rose while reminding me I had the van...they had to walk in the howling wind and listen to shrieks of terror from my son, whose eyes were still glazed with unadulterated fear.  The gym's receptionist had the grace to appear oblivious to the nine of us gathered a foot from her counter.  The cluster of cubicles that lined the opposite wall hustled into a flurry of fingers dialing suddenly urgent calls and shuffling papers that were in dire need of...shuffling.   Perhaps that day the staff gained insight into my jubilant smile and joyful "hello" each visit; in a family this size there is ALWAYS some issue needing to be worked out with a sweaty gusto.

  So there we lie, in the wake of the "crashbangthumping" all six eyes wide open...bed vibrating from my son's tremulous quaking.  "Hey Hon, I think your saw just fell down the porch steps" I call out to the living room.  Nothing. No reaction til one of the kids asked what he thought it was.  "Uuuumph," he utters from the effort of closing the recliner then, "ooooach," escapes his lips while pulling his poor, injured, and degenerating discs to an upright position.  I hear low mutters about probabilities of the drying rods holding their hunting clothes falling.  The little ones and I hear the curtains being slid, door opening and the silence that follows.  Finally there's "How is that even possible?!?" followed by shuffling, grunts and the solid thump, thump, thumping of what I can only guess is the saw being hoisted back up on the front deck and into our foyer...next to the sizable treadmill we recently had our muscled teenager carry up from the basement with intent to sell.  Yes, my family and our home ARE a sight to behold.  Most likely not your average sight.  However, it's what is not written most days is what defines us.  The tender smiles, giggles, and tickles before eyes begin to close at bedtime; these are the nectar of goodness.  The quiet prayers (and sometimes not so quiet) offered in thanksgiving for all our day held and asking for the grace to draw us closer to Him through it all: these are the channels to the staying power that holds us together no matter what typhoon comes our way.  The days Dad calls all to the garden to witness the miracle of growth from a seed to produce: these are the life lessons that will hopefully instill wonder and knowledge as our children grow into adults.  And of course the thousands of inconsequential moments that ARE life...it's in the living, that we learn.  The lessons seldom come from the moments we get it right the first time...but how we learn from those and do it better when offered a do-over. The best do-overs are the ones where patience, mercy, and attempted understanding take place.

  I've not left my family stranded on a field while I drive off to better myself again and the bulky saw got wheeled down to a safer storage space.  It now occupies the treadmill's former home.  The treadmill does still sit there in the foyer... awaiting offers (hint hint)-- great working condition I just have my reasons ;) *please see post titled Trail Vs. Treadmill. 

  That night's howling winds were a warning that the weather is changing...kinda like this family.  Bigger storms are coming, no doubt.  Definitely time to hunker down and prepare for those storms and changes...and stormy changes. 

  Time to embrace the sleepy time snugglers while they still love lullabies and bedtime stories.  Seek out moments with the pre-teen who has been letting more nights slip by without asking me to tuck him in but still whispers, "I love you Mom," as he heads upstairs for the night.  And while I do appreciate alone time it's so important to remember that there are teens hungering for some alone time with me- even if they don't realize it.  A simple, "Hey, I'm going to the store do you want to ride with me?" opens the door to chatting, laughs, and perhaps questions asked that wouldn't be broached at the dinner table.  And of course there's that college boy...already out on his own, though never too far for me to text "Good night, we love you, God bless you. <3." 

   A good reminder from a bedtime story shared throughout the years:  the big, bad wolf did try to huff and puff and blow the house down...it was the solid foundation that remained intact.

Bonk On The Head

"Mrs. Yurkewicz?" 
"Yes..."
"This is the school nurse...ummm...I'm calling to tell you of a minor incident involving your daughter..."
Silence... thoughts whirring...what did she do now.

The school nurse rushed on to reassure me that my kindergartner had taken a purposeful, solid, two-fisted bonk on the head during their scheduled Learning Lab with a pretty good nature.  I was told she did not have a headache and had rested with an ice-bag on her head before being evaluated once again and sent back to class.

Truthfully, other than asking if the nurse was sure my youngest child didn't have a headache since she had been complaining of one last night and this morning I was a bit at a loss for words.  I did manage to ask about the "bonk-er" but the nurse didn't have that information, she was there to tell me my daughter was physically fine.  Even now I am still processing this conversation and wondering what type of reaction I'll receive once my daughter is home.

This is the fine line we walk as parents- when to get involved and make a big deal of something and when to  walk the sidelines, smiling and waving our support while letting them know we are near if they need us to step in.  These moments, though perhaps soon forgotten in the minds of our children tempt me to want to place a bubble around those I cherish and ensure their safety in the face of whatever comes.  I can't do that...I know because I've tried.  This little one is number seven and there is no way to intercept the boo-boos, tears, hurt-feelings, and ouchies that come.  Yes, these are the character builders.  They are building character in me simultaneously.  The hurt is a different kind- the pain of letting go.  The comfort comes in realizing that there is One who loves my children more than I and He has their back.

Perhaps it's time to be grateful for the incessant bickering that has taken place here at the homestead for...well, forever.  We've made it a rule that the Instigator must say, "I'm sorry" and the Injured Party say, "I forgive you." Yes, I agree with the children who at times have reared back with, "I'm just saying it cuz you're forcing me."  Doesn't matter, do it anyway.  It's the right thing to do. It's now become a habit within our family.  One they can not get around.  Time stops for them until these words are spoken.

Time for my youngest to take these words into her life where I am not in control.  Took me awhile to realize control was an illusion anyway.  I must practice them when the bonk-er is held accountable...after all my baby was hurt...on purpose.  Yet, a few lines keep coming to mind from the movie Finding Nemo and I'm reminded all these little calls from the nurse and bandaged knee caps from life are all part of their journey and are orchestrated to work for their own good.

Marlin: There, there, there. It's okay, Daddy's here, Daddy's got you. I promise I will never let anything happen to you... Nemo.

Dory: That's a funny thing to promise. Well, you can't never let anything happen to him, then nothing would ever happen to him.


 

Eyes Opened...

A man and his children were riding the public bus home one evening. The man appeared oblivious to his children's "over the top" misbehavior. A nearby passenger began clearing her throat to bring attention to his children as they ran wildly through the aisles. Her indignant sniffs became louder as they hollered and jumped over the seats. She was shocked and displeased with his lack of applied discipline to this unruly crew. Still, the man stared into nothing seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Finally,her patience worn thin she demanded, "won't you please get your children under control?" The man seemed to snap back to the reality of his surroundings. He quickly apologized for his children disturbing this woman. "You see," he tried explaining, "they are probably trying to get a little energy out. We've been at the hospital all day where their mother has just died. I will have them quiet down."

** I had heard this story (I believe true) years ago and have repeated it several times. The shock value comes in at the end when the justified irritation and self righteous anger at an apparent lack of parenting suddenly transforms into a horrible lack of compassion and passing judgement.

Just this past Friday my own children were exhibiting a lack of control as they fought among themselves. My eldest, a teenager, was working himself into a fury as he physically threatened his younger brother, told his sisters to "shut up," and even hurled insults my way. My response was just as shameful as I vented my utter frustration at him in the form of name calling and grounded him for a week...or maybe it was a month...(I was pretty upset). I was beside myself as I ordered everyone in and buckled. I slammed van doors while loudly reprimanding the lot of them especially my teen son. Once I was in the drivers seat , and backing up, I braked and demanded to know who's door was open... the lights were still on. A few seconds later I uttered, "oh." and sheepishly walked around to shut the rear doors I forgot I had opened while venting. I chose to ignore my children's giggling commentary filtering around me "then mom yelled who left the doors open... and then she was like, oh."

I drove in silence until I realized my eldest, in the passenger seat beside me, was still was not buckled. We were no longer yelling...or talking. "Please put your seat belt on." A minute later I repeated, "please put your seat belt on." I touched his arm and asked "what is going on with you?" Silence with a glare. I looked over at him and fearing the worst I asked, "why are your eyes all red and glossy?!?," allowing the accusation to seep into my voice. "Because I was crying Mom." What?!? That was unexpected. "Why?" "Because my friend just died an hour and a half ago!" Tears began to stream down his cheeks. I was in shock. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen my big boy cry. Slowly he filled me in on his classmate who had been life flighted after being overcome by Carbon Monoxide. I gasped when I recognized this as the boy I had been following on the news. A true tragedy.

I began to think back to the hug my son had tried to give me as I was hustling everyone out the door and barking orders. I reached over and squeezed his arm and told him, "I am so very sorry." It became clear to me that I was the self righteous woman on the bus...judging my son harshly (easy to do with a teen temper). Wrapped up in his horrible show of anger I became oblivious as to WHY he was so angry.

Compassion is a lesson that comes in a difficult tutorial... It takes giving up a sense of comfort to discover the source of what appears unappealing. Applying the balm of compassion may be as simple as cutting someone a little slack or even just listening. Either way, this is probably a lesson that will be repeated throughout life. I'm certain I have BEEN the occasional TEST for lifes' unsuspecting traveler as well...

Beloved...

[Years ago Christ reminded me of His UNCONDITIONAL LOVE as I sat in front of Him in Adoration...May these words that flowed from His grace to my pen be a comfort and reminder if you should ever find yourself tempted to think you've strayed too far to seek His face...]
You have brushed my hair and anointed me with Your oils. You have groomed me with Your most experienced talents. You have called me forth and called me beloved...

At one time fires raged around me and I was drowning in stupidity, blindness, and drudgery from Your enemy's hand. It only took a moment of "guard down" and he was upon me. Delighting in the destruction of Your precious, prized possessions, he mutilated them until they fear they are too ugly to return to You in such disarray.

Slowly, with great pain, I heard You still calling out for me. Urgency and longing in Your voice. Desperate for sign of life You searched the darkness with Your lantern in hand. Daily, You set out food and signs of welcome on the chance would be alive and return to You. Your messengers hunted and did Your Will. You NEVER stopped calling. Finding me... You waited until I was ready.

Bedraggled, I have come forth. Disgusting in appearance I have shamefacedly approached Your courts. Summoning a last ounce of abused strength I raise my hand to the door.

You sense that I am near...
Rushing the remaining span of distance You throw open the heavy doors that are separating us.

I am in Your arms and You are cherishing the beauty of my cracked and disheveled face. You are smoothing my knotted, filthy hair that used to shine gloriously and crown Your creation. You are crooning LOVE and I am HOME. I am ashamed to cause You hurt and You are happy I am back. Tears are brushed from Your eyes to wipe the filth surrounding mine.

Beloved...