The Brady Bunch…& Beyond!

New LIfe

Many good things came our way in 2012, though by far this news took the cake:

A whole new person will be joining our family.

Amazing that this one tiny baby will share DNA with each member of our eight person blended bunch. We are all thrilled, grateful, and occasionally overwhelmed. It’s been seven years since I gave birth to a child – although I always longed for another. Just one more dream I buried, now resurrected.

No surprise then, that this little one is due on March 31st. Easter.

Resurrection Sunday.

Mar 30

The Peace of Christmas Day

catlap

Eliot stopped at the edge of the peeling porch step and whirled back around.

“Have a great Christmas, Mom. I’ll miss you.”

Within seconds his arms were wrapped tightly around me.

I savored the briefest moment, the growing gangly boy enveloped in my hug, then stepped back and flashed him a big smile, “I will – and you too! Have a great time at Dad’s, and I’ll see you in just a few days.” He grinned back, turned, and then lept confidently toward the massive SUV where his older brothers were already climbing inside. I stood for a moment, waving, smilling, seeing them all off – then back inside the warm house, closing out the sharp winter air behind me.

I stood for a moment in the stunning silence – such a change from the energy of six children that had filled it only hours ago. Reminders of them lay strewn about – a gingerbread house gumdrop fallen to the ground, the Settlers game yet to be picked up, a half empty cider glass. I sank into the rocking chair and surveyed the room. So peaceful. The moment to catch my breath that I had been longing for, after many full and hectic days in a row. One of the cats echoed my sentiments as he snuggled onto my lap and closed his eyes.

So why did my heart feel so heavy? Why did tears begin to fight their way to the surface? Surely they couldn’t be about this old thing … again. Wasn’t this my fifth Christmas now, sharing my children, saying goodbye to them in the snow? Nothing new, nothing unexpected, everything pre-orchestrated. And a precious time of peace to regroup. So I fought them back, these alien and unrequited tears.

Then John Denver’s voice flowed out of the streaming Christmas mix in the speaker next to my chair. John Denver, singing from ‘A Christmas Together’, with the Muppets. A family favorite growing up, especially beloved by my father, long since past, but who I now shared in this way with my own children.

The hope that has slumbered for two thousand years
the promise that silenced a thousand fears
the faith that can swallow an ocean of tears
the Peace of Christmas day.

And the damn burst. Not heavy sobbing or hopelessness, just tears. The weight of real loss, even still. The loss of an incredible father, who would have been an amazing grandfather, gone from this life now 15 years. The loss of spending the fullness of the holidays with my own children. The eerie stillness all around me, with Christmas morning just on the horizon.

One day I too would join the throngs of parents who transition to empty nests, college children who can’t travel home every holiday, children who marry and begin to split holidays with inlaws, or move far away, and on and on as the seasons go. But it shouldn’t be that way when the youngest is still only seven. It just shouldn’t.

Of course, every time I use the word should, it is an acute indication that I am not accepting reality as it actually is. So even as I let myself flush out the grief, I began to turn my thoughts toward what now IS. The literal green pastures I find myself in this year, the myriad of things to be thankful for, even the coming two days of quiet and rest – despite the dates they happen to fall on.

I spoke out things I love about our life, our family, our year, the promises still unfolding. I let my own faith be stirred up in a way that indeed began to dry up my tears. And then my words continued.

I began to pray for our ex’s, for their families, and for their holidays together with our children. For bonding for them all, for joy, for delight in their gifts, and the real Jesus to touch their homes this week. This praying felt good – the kind of good that comes with a solid workout; not good-fun or good-pleasant, just, good. Cleansing, I think. Right.

Focusing on the ‘should’ just keeps joy at bay, waiting for the day when things will be one’s own version of right. But God loves to come into the ever-messy now, just-as-things-are, and plop right down in the middle of it – His Presence, His peace, His joy. That’s what I felt, and was reminded of again today, as I invited Him into the middle of my tangle of tears, grief, joy and thankfulness. Him. Understanding it all. With me. With us.

The real Peace of Christmas Day.

Thank you Jesus. You arrived so many years ago, not in the way anyone thought things should be either. Not in the place you should be, or the form you should be in, or perhaps even to the family they thought you should have. No, you came right into the middle of our mess here on earth and broke all of our ‘shoulds’ wide open from day one. Thank you for being bigger than formulas and paradigms and expectations. Thank you for being real Peace, that surpasses our understanding and our circumstances.

Dec 23

Snares

snares

Abandonment. Abuse. Betrayal. Poverty. Family chronic illness.

Papa has faced many great tragedies already in his young life, and yet you would not know upon meeting him. You would first notice his broad smile and caring eyes and be put quickly at ease. He radiates peace and contentment and strength. He has had plentiful reasons to put on bitterness or get stuck seeking justice, or even to just give up entirely. Yet repeatedly, he does not yield to his feelings and those tempting trails, but chooses life.

Living in the aftermath of divorce, and in the new adventure of a blended family, is like walking a path peppered with road-side bombs. Even in the best of situations this seems to be pretty universal. The unique compound of co-parenting mixed with ever-blended finances, even moreso with new spouses and/or children involved, is just plagued with explosive temptation. It is the perfect fusion of opportunities for comparison, envy, bitterness, judgment…and on it goes.

When I find myself struggling with the newest explosion rocking our lives and I talk to Papa about it, he listens. He nods and I know he understands. And then he gives me a similar answer every time; we do what we can do, then we push that stuff – unresolved or unfair as it is, over to God and just keep walking. We do not entertain the thoughts that aren’t from Him, and we don’t let ourselves go down that rabbit trail, however tempting it might feel at the time.

Sometimes even now it is hard for me to hear this. But I look at his smile, his peace; I see in front of me the fruit born in a man who has lived exactly this way for many years now. And I believe him. Though it always begins as an uphill swim, when I do force myself to keep moving I always find the shouting side-path voices get gradually quieter. The pain in my spirit gets softer, the burden of figuring-it-all-out or fairness is lifted and I get happily distracted and can focus on all the joys on my real road again.

The main road God has set each of us on is full of such strawberries, even in divorce.When I’m not weighed down by justice or the illusion of control, I relax more with my boys as they lean into me for story time and breathe them in; I can see the humor in Eliot deeming it ‘Backwards Day’ and coming downstairs with all of his clothes on in reverse. My energy is not going to the things (and dare I say, people!) I can not control, and was not meant to. As Danny Silk says, on my best day I can only control myself; the only kind of Biblical control is self-control.

Especially in blended families we need to be aware how many dangerous rabbit trails line our path. There is still one strawberry-filled road God is walking us each down, even post-divorce. No one can force us off that road – all the enemy can do is try to persuade and tempt us by making those lines of thinking look appealing. But they are not life. Choosing those alternate, deceptive paths are the real destruction. The real power lies in continuing to believe and fix our thoughts on all that is actually true (His words of hope, grace, life), walking only forward. It is the only path of real peace.

Feb 20

Healing Happens

sullivan-laugh

‘My life is perfect.’

I set down my wine glass and turned to face Sullivan, incredulous. His wide grin assured me that he was quite serious.

Was this not the same little boy that just a year ago had been completely self-destructing? Pushing down his hurt and rage, then exploding, stuffing, exploding. I have cried more tears over him than any of my children as I’ve watched him grieve in such pain, unable to really communicate it or release it well. And his anger has scared me. In the loss and change of the past years, he went from an incredibly sweet, happy boy to one who randomly punched a classmate, and chased another with a shovel in rage. Only seven years old at summer camp this year, he exploded, tried to run away and had to be physically carried back and held for hours.

I tried again and again to get him help. Somehow, all the doors seemed to close. This therapist moved, that one went on sabbatical, this one isn’t licensed any more, and on it went. All the while, we did all that we knew to do ourselves – and prayed through tears that God would move for him.

Then late this fall a transition began – for no tangible reason I can give you. The bright tender boy I once held in my arms was re-emerging. Something in his spirit had shifted; no circumstances had changed, it was purely internal. He began laughing again, really laughing. He became lighter and began searching us out for hugs, often accompanied by ‘I love you’, again and again. And it has been a consistently upward trend since.

Hearing that spontaneous overflow from his heart today was amazing. I tried to ask him some questions, but as usual he expended few words. He just smiled, quite sure of himself and his declaration.

I so wish I had some formula to extract from this, to tell others of the 5-point way to rescue children from grief. But what we experienced instead with Sullivan, the actual answer and real hope, is even better. Because it is a Person. One who loves perfectly, and knows the path of healing for every single wounded heart, big and small alike.

Feb 16

Aerial View

chain

Breakthrough.

We use this word a lot in our prayers. For ourselves and people we love – for finances, for marriages, for ministries, for healing, and for direction. These prayers often ring out as drops in a cup; seemingly repetitive, with no tangible result – until that final drop fills the cup to overflowing. But sometimes the day to day drop, drop, drop can get tiring. The waiting. The persevering faith.

In the waiting, both time and perspective are absolutely essential – because many significant breakthroughs don’t come after one prayer in one solitary moment (though I certainly have seen exactly that). The day-to-day peeping is way too narrow for these huge areas we are trusting to Him – the 10,000ft view tells so much more of the story. 

I love that according to Dictionary.com, a breakthrough can be either:

A productive insight
or 
A penetration of a barrier such as an enemy’s defense.

Growing faith for the seemingly impossible breakthroughs are essential vitamins for doing the real adventure-life with God. We emphasize this with our kids in the way we begin each new year. I cut out paper links from two different colors and we sit together at the weathered kitchen table, sharpie markers in hand. Each family member gets 4 white links on which to thank God for things that happened in the closing year, and 4 green links to write their prayer requests for the year ahead – we then gather them, all 64!, and read them aloud together.

Before we begin, we always read the links (which by then have been cut and pasted into a haphazard collage) from last New Years. I can feel both the faith level and thankfulness rise in the room with each prayer read, as we truly see God’s faithfulness and heart from the 10,000ft view. Some of my favorites are always praying for friends desiring babies who have had trouble conceiving or the pain of miscarriage – and then getting to thank God the following year for the new little life born to them (like my rolypoly nephew!). Tangible answered prayer. Living, breathing breakthrough.

Once the atmosphere shift has taken place and faith has flooded the tiny kitchen, we begin pouring out both our thanks and requests for the now.

‘Healing for Zoey’s leg!’

‘A baby for Erin!’

‘Good friends!’

‘New church building!’

‘A van!’

‘A silver van!’

‘A silver Nissan van!’

And so it goes. Then we form the links into a giant chain and hang it in our living room for awhile, as a reminder of all He has done, and will do. A chain of faith, forged by tiny hearts who despite the big losses in their lives are solid in their beliefs that God IS, and that He is GOOD, and that He is always working while we wait.

We did a similar thing with our small group this week – we all shared the great things God did this year, followed by our deepest breakthrough needs for the year ahead. Tears flowed, on both ends of the spectrum, in great thanks and great need; our own, and those we are doing life with. It was beautiful.

As I began to push into these new prayers on the table, building a landscape of hope and faith for these friends I love, God flooded my mind with the amazing breakthrough He has brought in a year to so many other loved ones.

Marriages totally on the brink, now restored, with an amazing trajectory of hope.

Beloved families on food stamps, now with money to spare and brand new jobs.

Babies in the arms of mothers who had been previously empty.

Precious friends going to bed hungry, blessed with a miraculous financial provision extravagant enough to flip their entire situation.

A new daughter at home, with an incredible family, after years of deferred hope.

Trust restored to marriages.

Loved ones defiled and displaced by their church; only to be adopted into a new church family and blown away by brand new life and passionate faith.

I could go on and on and on. Things that I’ve missed as they happened little by little – but taking them all in as a landscape are breathtaking. He hears us. He helps us. He loves us.

So I press in again this year, for those very people and situations Has has now placed in our lives, to hope with them and for all the answers we will see another year from now. To remember all He has done, as we trust for all He will do again. Because the 1million ft view is that He is truly the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Jan 23
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