A Resurrection Only Occurs After A Death.

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.

Gathering

The past couple of months there has been a lack of peace in my home, and I often thought, this mothering gig really isn’t my thing anymore. 4 teenagers, one with profound special needs, a pre teen, a 10 year old, a 9 year old, and a four year old who has no lack of confidence. It was a lot. Between health and job and hormonal issues which led to emotional issues and arguing and backtalk and snarkiness and bad attitudes and the older kids teaching the younger kids things they had no business knowing; the whole thing was a big honkin cup that overfloweth… or perhaps, it was more like a kitchen sink or the bathtub spilling over & it was causing significant damage. And we – the parents – should have immediately steered the ship back on course, but instead we bickered & bitched & complained as we held on for dear life to the raft boat the kids threw us when they made us walk the plank.

This sudden change in the family dynamic was attributed to a few circumstances: one, everyone was getting older and hormonal and becoming more opinionated & two, our move to an urban community where the kids had opportunities for activities, sleepovers, and jobs and the focus slowly shifted from the family unit – a strong unit we had in rural America where we relied heavily on each other because it was all we had – to individualized focus “You take care of you, and I’ll take care of me” & as long as the older crew took ownership of themselves: jobs, food, school, homework, play – we didn’t question much. We reasoned it was simply a stressful time in our life and “this too shall pass” and then…

Then, a few weeks ago, I said to my husband “I really miss family dinners.” You see, with the introduction of jobs and late nights and neighborhood kids to play with and everyone fending for themselves, and in turn each individual grabbing a bite to eat here and there, dinner time as a family had become almost obsolete – the rare exception in our family since our conception in 2011. For 8 years, we have religiously sat down at the dinner table and enjoyed a meal together – religiously until the move this past December. When Ryan and I married, we knew this tradition would provide a foundation to our success as a blended family – the art of gathering around a table for a home cooked meal and offering a blessing for not only the food we were about to eat but also for his faithfulness through our lives. We knew that the table would provide the foundation for community and connectedness in our newly blended home and the absence of the table would only leave a void and disconnect.

We recently reincorporated family dinner night. It looks a little different than it did in rural America, and we eat later – around 6 now because of play time with the neighborhood kids. We’ve made it a requirement for any child who is home that evening, and my oh my, what a difference we’ve seen already. Attitudes have changed and lightened as we laugh around the table partaking in fresh pasta and warm bread. I like my kids again & I think they might like me too as the focus has shifted, and we get to know each other on a heart level – on a real level- rather than just co-existing.

There is so much chatter in the world today about how lonely we all are, how depressed and isolated and longing for community, and this is not only true for ourselves as adults, but it’s desperately true for our kids. Our homes need to be safe places of respect & connections and what better way to foster these desperately needed essentials than around a table? What better way to encourage conversations? And what better way to show love than to invest our time, our most precious commodity, in them? Give it a try. You won’t regret it ❤

Just keep livin.

Mom! Don’t Bring Luke!

A few weeks ago, on a particularly warm summer day, Ryan and I announced to our crew –

Kids! You’ve been so helpful lately and did your chores without complaining so we’re going to have a family fun day at a water park!

Kids responded with glee and excitement and Yays! all around and asked –

Who’s going to watch Luke?

We’re going to bring him, we replied.

He’ll enjoy getting out of the house. 

Mom!!!!! NO!!!! bellowed the sounds of despair. We’ll have to leave early if Luke comes!

This is a constant dilemma we face.

We brought him.
He did make it very difficult and tiring.

We did have to leave early because Ryan and I were absolutely beat after a few hours of fun.

We arrived around 11:00 a.m. because this particular event had free food (major bonus with our crew!). We loaded all eight plates full of grub, and then Ryan retreated to the furthest corner of the park, in the shade, to feed Luke so that the stimulation of all of the people didn’t overwhelm either of them and so he wouldn’t try to grab the food off others plates (Luke not Ryan). I picked a table near the food because I knew my tribe was going to take full advantage of the free factor.

Mya took charge of Annabelle as she skitted about, and the rest were free to roam independently. Ryan and I took 20 minute intervals engaging with Luke. A word here – Luke is no longer content to sit. EVER. He has declared a mutiny on his stroller and wants nothing to do with it, but he needs constant supervision and assistance for his and others safety. We took turns introducing him to the parks plethora of activities – 5 slides, numerous water features, an accessible swing, acres of land to explore, lots and lots of hot dogs because he wouldn’t eat the chips or watermelon or popsicles.

About 3 hours later Ryan and I looked at each other and we knew – we were done. Physically, mentally and emotionally, and we also knew our kids wouldn’t be happy about it.

Let’s give them the 30 minute warning

My wise husband suggested.

We did.

The moans of disappointed began –

Luke always makes us leave early! Why can’t we find a babysitter for him? Why can’t you and dad drive separately? (Which maybe we should have but the park was about 45 minutes from our house)

WHY DO WE HAVE TO BRING LUKE? They wailed

And we responded, frustrated as well and exhausted, questioning the excuse we offered-

Because he’s part of our family, and we need to include him occasionally. 

We currently do not have a solution for this problem.

It is what it is.

We do feel the need to include Luke – even at the expense of his siblings happiness, but we understand their frustration as well.

This post is simply to bring awareness; the little things that special needs families struggle with such as decisions that sometimes cause pain for other family members. I do believe that our children will be better human beings in the long run for having Luke in their life as they have patience, flexibility, and independence that other kids may lack. They have also learned compassion and acceptance towards those who might not be just like them – those who might cause a bit of a disruption to their happiness – those like Luke.

 

Just keep livin.

Blessed Are the Meek

August is here – a month drenched in significance and redemption.

A month when Luke was born

And Jason died.

And three of my children said good bye to a mother.

Luke, who was declared terminal at 20 weeks in utero. Luke, who was never supposed to see the light of day & yet defied every odd when he came screaming into this world on August 12, 2004.

Jason, my late husband, a personal trainer and tennis pro- took his last breath on August 24, 2010 & entered the most beautiful light of day when he won his eternal race and accepted the crown of life.

Tate, Mya, and Jada – four days later, August 28, 2010, mourned the loss of their mother – a deep ache that no child should ever have to bear.

Three stories.

Each one intertwined to form a bigger story.

The eternal symbolism is never lost on me.

His strength is made perfect in our weakness.

A strong father who fought for three years – gone.

A young mother full of life and four months later – gone.

A little boy, the meekest of the meek, declared dead and 15 years later, living and thriving and spreading the message of hope with every step he takes.

His ways are never our ways.

“For I am God and you are not” thus sayeth the Lord of Hosts.

Blessed are the meek
And the weak
And the lonely
And those gasping for one more breath
And those with IV’s in their arms
And those swallowing big pills
For even bigger problems
And those seeped in depression
And those on food stamps
And those writhing in addiction
And those who aren’t sure they can make it one more day
Blessed are the single moms
And the dads too
And those crying out for relief
And those living in the shadows
Or those weeping beside a grave
Blessed are all of the Luke’s who came defiantly screaming into this world
With a gigantic F*#% YOU!
PG version –
Of course
And blessed are YOU
And you
And you
And you
The meek of this world
The lost
The forgotten
Blessed are YOU for you shall inherit the earth.

Just keep livin.