I descended the stairs, immediately irritated by what was awaiting me with each scream originating from my 15-year-old son. Great, I muttered as the uninvited stench rose to greet my nose. Luke, my son with profound special needs, required yet another diaper change – a chore that was becoming increasingly able to grate my very last nerve over the past few weeks as his father recovered from shoulder surgery – a recovery period that did not allow for diaper changes.
I opened the door slightly and held my breath. The third of the day so far. My least favorite job in the whole world.
I did what was necessary – cleaned my big 15-year-old man child, and as I prepared to leave, he reached for my face, met my eyes and sang in his sweet jumbled way,
Oh God you are my God, and I will ever praise you.
Continue reading “A Holy Shift”
When Ryan and I met in 2010 we were in a season of death with the passing of our spouses, & this death included a burial of lifelong dreams and expectations.
The next few years we enjoyed a resurrection as our lives merged and birthed new realities: our marriage & family, a simple life in rural America, the birth of a book, a teaching career, a non profit & another child. Lots of growth & beauty.
We now find ourselves back in a season of decay; broken bodies over the past year: Ryan’s, mine, and Luke’s; broken ideals and dreams as we restructure & determine how we’ll proceed, lots of unanswered questions and concerns & the burial of systems that no longer serve us emotionally or spiritually, and we wait because we know. We know because we’ve been here before – this is familiar soil, deep & dark & rich soil where we’ve been planted and now we await our reemergence into the light.
We wait for our resurrection.
And we are confident that it will arrive in due time because that’s how life works.
Everything remains in motion; a continuous movement of death and resurrection, waves upon waves washing away the brokenness and moving what remains to the shore – natural disasters and coronavirus and despair not excluded – it’s all involved, collectively and individually; ashes to beauty and back to ashes again, circular movements until the maestro sweeps his baton for the last time & bows his head in holy reverence, that moment when his beloved creation leans into the finality & releases a labored breath – bursting through the birth canal into an everlasting resurrection.
And until then?
We just keep livin.
I decided a few weeks ago to give up social media on the weekends. This decision came together for a few reasons such as –
- I’m not very good at rest and even worse at the concept if I have the opportunity to constantly work (via social media).
- I realized the onslaught of never ending information was making me anxious and depressed. Yes, I care about people, yes, I want to know how they’re doing, but after awhile it just becomes too much, and I have to step away.
- Social media was making me less present and available for those I love – my husband and children.
- I’ve found I’m much more productive in so many other areas of life by setting boundaries around social media on Saturday and Sunday.
- Finally, I’ve also discovered the flip side to be true – I’m much more productive and engaged online Monday through Friday because I’ve had a mental break over the weekend.
This past weekend was fantastic. We began Saturday morning with giant banana split yogurt parfaits, then we all helped dad plant the garden, followed by chores which resulted in Wendy’s frosties and a trip to the store where the kids picked out a new book for being so helpful. Saturday night we had homemade pizza and strawberry/beet sorbet. We intended to go to church on Sunday morning, but Luke slept in until 9! So instead we took the family to the park, Ryan and I went for a hike, and then I parked my rear end in bed and poured over my new cookbooks from the previous day’s shopping excursion. It was good for my heart & perhaps my experience will encourage you to try a social media free weekend.
See you Monday!
Just keep livin!