Who or Whose-that is the question

I have many specialists in my life. People who have their specialties in life and ministry. Some are preachers, musicians, teachers, ,counselors, mommies, theologians, some are writers, and even in each of these categories they are specialized even more. It appears to me that one of the advantages of specializations allow one's life to flow all together. I liken it to driving an automatic. Put it in drive and simply go.

I drive a stick shift. I find myself pushing down on a clutch and shifting gears all day long. I'm not whining about having something to do as I love a full platter. However, I do feel fragmented. I would like to honestly master the things I do, instead of finding myself toiling at so many different kinds of things, never quite feeling mastery over any of them.

For example, mothering adult children in various places, administrating church stuff, counseling clients, teaching addicts about God's design for family, helping a friend on a book project, on the decorating committee, being a homemaker, post abortion/pro-life ministry, and children. I feel passion about all these things. I do realize there are seasons in our life as well.
I said, as I left one of these encounters feeling like a wrung out old rag , "LOrd! Where's my niche? Can't I have a niche' that is mine, where I'm really good at something, and able to give all my passion to it? Where is it? Everyone else has one. I want one of those."

Silence. Sweet silence. Then the still small voice came. "I" am your specialty. "I" am your niche'. Just follow me, be concerned for MY glory, and I will always be enough for you in the things I lead you to each day. "I am" your niche.

Okay, I can do that. Thank you Lord, for not letting me go off and whine .That was pretty cool how you kept the people I called that night so busy they couldn't answer the phone. John 15--- "Remain in me." Some he calls into niches. I am so glad because I learn so much from you niche people. Keep up the good work. I'll keep shifting...it's all Kingdom stuff.

Okay, so there are some advantages

I have been moaning a bit about the empty nest. I'll give you that. And it's a kind of rite of passage to go through it. But...I have discovered some advantages.

I cleaned the bathroom a week ago, and it's still clean.
I only go to the grocery store once every 10 days
I eat my low sugar low fat ice cream RIGHT OUT OF THE CARTON
My husband drinks his orange juice right from the carton
There is gas in the car
Less decisions to make on an hourly basis
And...well let's just say I can't post All the advantages to a house void of impressionable souls; You might not feel comfortable continuing to read this blog!!!

Okay I said it. Even though I miss you horribly children....I can move on in certain areas.

When I Wonder #4

The nest emptied a bit more last night. The leopard ghekko my son acquired 14 1/2 years ago died. I think Robbie (that was the name Greyson selected when he was 4 years old) knew Greyson had left; he was very old and tired and knew it was okay to go. So I did what I do. I always pulled the teeth and buried the small pets. Robbie is now down under as well...

When I Wonder #3

When it rains, it pours. Or shall I say, if in grief mode, just do it all the way.

Three years ago my daughter went to college. It wasn't far, just down the road. But that road felt like an ocean. The day we moved her into her freshman dorm I cried buckets all the way home. BUT, I have been able to see her on the weekends, spend the night in her dorm room, and even enjoy an occasional lunch with her on campus. God was very gentle with me when the first bird flew from the nest. As you know, the second time wasn't so gentle. Greyson moved to Australia just 2 short weeks ago...and that road is an ocean- and a couple of continents- and an equator!

Last night was one of those blessed nights when I could drive over to meet my daughter for dinner at her request. She had something to talk about with me- and her dad, but I'll leave him out of this for now.

"I don't think I'm coming home this summer." MMmmmm. ooooh... ooooh-kay. My thoughts raced back to the days of my junior year and beyond. I never went back home for the summer either. I was busy with the world I had built for myself, enjoying my independence, and loving my life. I knew this was coming. I know it is really good. I know that I know that healthy ripping is natural. But it still feels like ripping.

She is to me what Greyson has been to his dad. She is my princess and feminine companion in a house with two other very manly men and all the burps, belches, farts, and wrestling in the pool, a best girlfriend, an energetic thing of beauty that makes me want to get up and be a better person. She is transcending me. And I want to hang on for dear life. But I can't. I have to let go again, and I will. Just give me a day or two. Okay, maybe a week or two...or what-EVER! I'll get there, but God help me to enjoy her beautiful wingspan as she flies further and further into your arms and out of mine- into your plans and not mine. I have a feeling she will be an ocean across someday as well.

I have a thing I say to my kids...especially now as it is their responsibility to grow up, learn interdependence, and decide with their will what their life will be. Just simply, "Go get it" or "okay, let's do this thing."

Lord, help me to graciously do this thing.

When I Wonder #2

I was with my parents this past week doing some work we occasionally like to do together. Part of our work is the work of grieving some tragedy and losses we have experienced in the past 6 years. This reminded me of another life experience collection my son went to Australia with.

Greyson spent the better part of his grade school years getting up early on Sunday mornings to go with his dad who would supply the preaching at some church who was for one reason or another missing their pastor. Greyson loved to get up, dress up like his dad, and go see these different churches and sit on the front row and listen to his dad preaching. On many occasions Guy would return home to tell me how Greyson had gone to the alter during the reflection time and would pray OVER his dad. He would put his hand on his dad's shoulder while his dad knelt and Greyson would bless his dad through prayer.

When my family experienced the death of Guy's dad, my younger brother, and Gaby and Greyson's 13 year old cousin all within a period of about 3 1/2 years, Guy, as lead clergy in the family, buried all these loved ones. Greyson, again, got dressed up like his dad, and stood on the same podium and sang at the funerals of his loved ones, all before the age of 13.

This explains some things, not because he sang, but because he was engaged and involved and invested. Singing just happened to be his service. It does explain his propensity to spot a hurting person and be able to connect with them in that hurtful place in their heart... His ability to write down words about hurtful experiences and put them in a song... His understanding that there is something mysterious but very real about this thing, God; not in a pretentious way, but a very real and raw way. He wants it to be real in him (or not at all, I might add), and if he participates in the delivery of hope in any way he desires it to be delivered in a real way and in a way that touches the people he is serving.

These life experiences can be very helpful at a time when you are encountering hundreds of new people from all over the world, being required to completely set life up- no dorms, no furniture, no fridge, no air (40 celcius, 103 degrees) and get yourself up, fed up, and cleaned up on time- or else you are fined. Yes, fined for being late or getting an assignment in on late. ( A little firey motivation never hurt anyone and fines mean less of something else. The college fund does not have a category for "fines.")

I am happy to report, he's faring well for today. God is showing up all over the place in connections, relationships, worship encounters, and even strangers. But it helps to have some life experiences to springboard from in all these new things.

So, as mommy in the empty nest, I have an enormous amount of peace right now. He is in better hands that he has ever been (cause he is definitely out of the reach of mine!)and his heart carries alot of resources he can draw from...besides the obvious.

More later on When I Wonder and other thoughts from the empty nests that baby birds fly far from.

When I wonder

The boy is gone. Or shall I say, the boy-man is gone. It's really quiet, tidy, clean, and quietly quiet ...did I mention how quiet it is?

When I wonder how the boy-man is handling all the emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual challenges of his new world, I am able to recall a memory that reminds me he has a life experience base that will help him figure alot of things out.

The memory that came to mind today when I found myself "wondering" was when he and I sat together in the living room of yet another Beirut home when he was only 12. The man of the home had his commando camo clothes on and was trying to have a conversation with Greyson all to himself. (The first beheading of that time was being shown over and over on the television set in the same living room we sat in) We will call the man of the house the "commandoman" for the purposes of this blog.

The commandoman was trying to get Greyson to hold a clear juice glass filled with boiling tea as tight and long as he could. Greyson, smiling and trying valiantly to play along, would hold that boiling tea as long as he could. (I had one eye on the woman of the house yelling at me about something and one eye glued on my boy and the commandoman). After about a dozen attempts to building up Greyson's endurance, Greyson was glancing over at me mumbling in english, and the commandoman was laughing, hollering, and jeering with arabic and broken english. Eventually, Greyson managed to satisfy commandoman's exploits, charmingly took the challenge and maneuvered himself quite well.

I hadn't thought of that memory in a long time. It helped me as my mama heart found itself wondering today. I think the commandoman moment is one little deposit in the life experience bank that may serve him well in some difficult moments that come. After all, it's not just about the boiling tea in a juice glass on the bare hand at the age of 12 with a beheading in the background; it's the willingness and wherewithall to roll with it, take some ego blows, and walk away with your chin up...not in a sinful pride way, but in a inner personal dignity kind of way. Sorta the kind of stuff you need when faced with so much newness in such a short amount of time, having not had the chance to fully predict and calculate ahead of time.

Stay tuned for future "When I Wonder " posts on the life of the empty nest from which baby birds fly far from.

Mommas Around the World

I will never forget the day I sat in the living room of a muslim family in the city of Beirut, Lebanon. The woman of the home was dressed casually and not covered in her burqa. Her 8 year old son was sitting at the coffee table in front of the television eating Cocoa Puffs cereal. She sat in her chair and I sat across from her as we sipped tea and she reminisced about flying bullets and hiding her children inside a wall during the war in the 80's. We talked of God, Allah, love, and life.

As I sat there, listening to the call to prayer in the background, listening to this young mom talk of her anti-depressent medication and horrible memories of war, and how much she loved her family...any religious and cultural barriers I walked into her house with vanished in that a-ha moment. I realized, it doesn't matter where you are in the world, a mom is a mom is a mom.

That moment makes me think of all the moms in Haiti right now who are separated from their children, or lost their children, or feeling totally helpless to not be able to feed, bathe, and care for their children. The pain of being totally powerless when it comes to motherhood scenarious and seasons is excruciating. Then to think about the children who lost their momma....

"Lord Jesus, how grieved you must be right now as you move in and amongst the suffering in Haiti. Would you meet the mommas in those places in their heart where love and sorrow mingle deep and give them hope. And for the children , call out mommas for them. Help us to not get desensitized and keep us praying and hoping in your name."