The co-grandma adventure

IMG_4177I’m a grandma. Yes, I say it proudly. I became one alongside my co-grandma, my son-in-law’s mom, Maureen.

We’ve been friends for a long time, becoming closer once our kids started dating.  In fact, after Kimmi and Nathanael’s first date, Maureen called me at work and when I answered the first thing she said was, “Is this the possible future mother-in-law of my son?” We laughed with hopeful hearts, and then with full-to-bursting hearts, we hugged at their wedding the next year.

We don’t communicate regularly but whenever we get together we have a wonderful time. I love her.

I got a call at work on a Thursday from my sweet first-born girl telling me she would be induced on Saturday. “I’ll be there!” I told her excitedly. Not long after, I got a text from Maureen in Indiana asking if I would pick her up on the way. Her husband Jim would be flying in later. What a great plan!

It was a spotless sunny day for me to drive from Illinois to grandma-hood. Maureen called when I was about 2 hours from her house asking if she had time to bake cookies. What a great idea! Cookies are always a good idea, especially Maureen’s cookies. I finally got to her house and hopped out of the car, got a big hug from my friend, put her things in the trunk (including freshly baked cookies) and we took off for Ohio.

The rest of the drive was much more fun. We talked and talked, about the baby, about our kids, about blessings and struggles of ministry life (Maureen is a pastor’s wife, too).  Once we arrived, a late night run to Cracker Barrell was in order due to Kimmi’s craving for biscuits and gravy, then the kids were off to the hospital to spend the night and Maureen and I settled in at their house.

The next morning after their greyhound, Danny was taken care of, we hopped in the car, found a Starbucks, found the hospital, delivered said Starbucks to Kimmi and Nathanael, and sat down in the room with them to wait.  Whenever it was time to check Kimmi’s progress, Maureen and I would step out in the hall, waiting for permission to come back in. The last time we stepped out it was time for Kimmi to start pushing.  The labor room was in a hallway with only three rooms and the other two were empty at this point.  The grandma plan was to stand outside the room, with a foot in the door to keep it slightly open like any respectable eavesdropper, in hopes of hearing the long-awaited miracle moment of Ezra’s birth and first cry.

Our hearts were beating fast and we leaned close to listen until we were interrupted by a nurse we hadn’t seen yet that day, who must have just come on shift. With a stern expression, she instructed us that it was hospital policy to not allow visitors to congregate in the hallway and that we would need to go out of the labor hallway and out to the waiting area. Reluctantly, begrudgingly, we obeyed. Maureen dubbed our new friend “Nurse Deitzel” as she had a militant, “keeping order” air down pat.

We sat alone in the waiting room down the hall…waiting. Maureen flipped absent-mindedly through a magazine, I messed around on my iPad.  I set it down to find a water fountain and as I was walking back, Maureen hopped up and said excitedly, “The lullaby! It’s playing! He’s here!”  (whenever a baby was born, Brahm’s lullaby was played over the speakers in the maternity ward.) I scrambled to my chair, “let me cover up my iPad real quick!” only to realize the song playing was from the game “Candy Crush.” Argh!  Crestfallen, we sat back down only to spring back up as Nathanael came through the doorway beaming, “He’s here!” Lots of hugs shared, he gave us the details so we could update family and friends who had been waiting with us and keep tabs through texts.

The moment finally came when we could walk, practically skip, back down the hallway and into the room to see Kimmi sitting up in bed, with her precious boy all wrapped up, lying still and quiet in mom’s arms. Yes! Finally! Praise God. So proud. So blessed. So happy I couldn’t even cry.

The grandmas went to pick up pizza and bring it back, only to pass “Nurse Deitzel” in the hallway. We smiled cheerily at her and marched right on to the room where our grandson was. No stopping us now!

The next day was all fun: Lots more getting Starbucks, food for lunch and dinner, holding Ezra, visiting with the new mom and dad…just being grandmas. I love this role.

Maureen had to leave Sunday. I stayed until Tuesday, so got to hold little Ezra John (EJ) his first night at home in between feedings so his Mommy (my beautiful daughter!) could hopefully sleep a little bit.  EJ and I slept on the couch – I will never forget that night. I was exhausted the next day driving home but also still riding the high of all this love.

EJ will never lack love and I often thank God that we share grandparenthood with Jim and Maureen, two of the best who love Jesus so much and love people so well. Dear friends. Fellow co-grandparent adventurers! And it’s just beginning.

(Ezra John will be two in September! I wrote this shortly after he was born and never posted it. Reminiscing brings it all back as if it were yesterday.)

This is me

Don’t compare your real everyday life with someone else’s highlight reel. That’s good advice I heard once about social media. Facebook, Twitter and Instagram can be comparison traps. What most of us post are the good moments, the vacation photos, the happy birthday group shots, the days off, the kids graduating or performing or doing something cute. We don’t usually post the flat tires, the grumpy days at work, the late payment credit card statements, the cat’s poop on the carpet, or pics of our kids in time-out in tears with angry faces.

It’s easy for us to forget that other people are posting their best stuff and envy can start creeping in as we scroll through picture after picture, post after post. We become discontented with our own lives and fall into the mucky muck of self-pity.  Not that I’ve ever done this, of course!

My username on Twitter is “therealmimi” (“realmimi” on Instagram) and I want to be that. I strive for transparency and honesty but am also a positive person by nature. I also want to encourage so I try to post upbeat things, Bible verses that help me, hopeful, fun stuff. Some people have gotten the impression, from time to time, that I have it all together because of this, that I don’t struggle, that I’m handling everything in my life with grace all the time.

Welllllll….not so! I was talking with a dear friend yesterday about this very thing. I was telling her I wish I would’ve created my blog to be anonymous so I could really post about anything, be completely honest in my sharing about all parts of my life. As it is, I feel like I have to hold back, I feel the need to be careful what I say because I’m a pastor’s wife and several in my church family read my posts.  I’m a mother of young adults but my daughters might read my posts. I don’t want to ever hurt any of those people by my open sharing.

At the same time, I really don’t want people getting the idea that I’m positive all the time, that I always have hope, that I always look at the bright side, that I’m always walking closely with Jesus.

I’m an emotional person and have my share of sadness, anger, impatience (especially when driving!), self-centeredness, selfishness, and even depression and sometimes overwhelming anxiety.  When people imply or suggest that I don’t feel those things or don’t go through hard stuff, it actually can make me angry. “I’m the same as anyone else!” I want to shout, stamping my foot with hands on my hips. I think it’s because if someone pictures me as less troubled than the ordinary person, or more “spiritual,” or always happy, it takes away my relatability, it separates me and makes me feel isolated.

There is no closeness between friends who aren’t real with each other. There is no deep connection without transparency. There is no relating to someone you sense has no issues or problems. And I want to relate, I want to connect, I want to encourage by sharing from my truest self.

I believe one of my callings from God is to encourage people. I also believe it’s to help others feel less alone. I believe that in orer to do that, I have to be real.

How about you? What would you need to change in your interactions with people, and even on social media, to be more real? I’m not going to post pics of my cat pooping where she’s not supposed to, but it happens. How’s that for starters?

 

WWLD

Whiner baby. I confess I was complaining to my hubby about something that is what it is. I should just accept it and make the best of it. Time to put on those oh so famous, uncomfortable big girl pants and just move on.

You know, that is easier said than done sometimes. It can actually be excruciating to be positive about something you really dislike and decide not to complain about it anymore.

What do I get from complaining, though? Just guilt and the grumps. Complaining is discontentedness and discontentedness is basically telling God what He’s given me is not good or is not enough. I really don’t want to do that, because He has given me WAY more than I deserve. Many others have greater needs than I do, that is certain.

One thing that has really helped me try to be positive this week instead of complain is remembering my friend, Laura. Continue reading

I can’t fix it…and that is precisely the point

My heart and mind have been ruminating all day about hope, faith, doubt, Jesus, God, despair, pain, disappointments, trust, and truth.  I’m a little weary inside tonight.

Already having a mini faith crisis of sorts lately, pondering truth and what I really, truly believe about God, Jesus, eternity and life and…when I try to solve these issues on my own I just find myself walking in circles, getting nowhere and feeling restless.

With all this filling my heart already, today I reached a tipping point.  A dear friend who has so much pressure in her life already shared some details with me of the latest tough news and troubling lack of answers and hopeful outcomes.  As I listened I felt so inept, incapable of helping her.  I was thinking I should say something about Jesus but we were at work at the front desk and it wasn’t the right time.  And for some reason I felt it would come across as ineffective or cliché, like offering to put a little Band-aid on a gaping wound, or bailing out a sinking boat with a teaspoon.

Then I felt guilty for feeling that way.  Maybe I hesitated, too, because I wasn’t confident at the moment of that hope myself.  Why was my heart hesitating? Continue reading

I could use a Kirby hug

I think I can find an illustration or lesson in just about anything: a song, a story, an experience, even a video game.  Hey, they’re there if you’re lookin’!

My daughter, Krissy, and I just finished playing a Wii game called “Kirby: Return to Dream Land.”  It is cute and hilarious at the same time.  As Kirbys, little round guys who can fly as well as suck up enemies and then take on their powers/traits, you travel through all different sorts of lands fighting enemies, gathering stars and treasures.  Of course if you bump into the enemies or they shoot you somehow your health goes down and if it gets really low, your little Kirby starts panting and looking sad, like he can hardly go another step.

The fantastic thing about playing with a friend, or with my girl, is that Continue reading

Jesus is not your homeboy

As I was washing dishes this evening I was thinking about respect or lack thereof and what causes someone to not show respect for someone or something else.  This thought process was stirred up after reading a review of a movie just out in theaters that makes jokes out of Jesus, the nativity and so forth.  What I read really bothered me and I thought to myself, “whoever wrote this movie doesn’t realize who they’re mocking.”

Somehow our culture has arrived at a distorted, watered-down image of Jesus.  Even among some people who say they follow Him, that He’s Lord of their life, seem to have not realized who it is they’re following.  I saw some kids at a Christian concert once wearing shirts that said, “Jesus is my homeboy.”  I’m sure whoever made the shirts had harmless intentions, just being funny, but it seems way too familiar a title for Him.

The relationship we can have with God is such a mystery and paradox.  He is Creator, all-powerful, all-knowing, present everywhere, the beginning and the end, King of kings, Ruler of everything, Holy, Just, True.  At the same time He chooses to be Father, Counselor, Deliverer, Guide, and even Friend to us when we put our faith in Him.  How does that work?  It boggles my mind!

All of this brings me to a conclusion that lack of respect for God, for Jesus, comes from Continue reading

They Inspire Me

When we lived in New Mexico I decided to begin jogging.  The first week or so during my run I’d develop a stitch in my side.  A neighbor who was an avid jogger told me that it would help if I took more intentional, bigger breaths as I ran.   When I tried it, it helped!  I needed some more oxygen.  I can’t imagine running without taking big breaths.  In fact, moving at all would be impossible without breathing…so would living!

I have several good friends who are on the journey of illness and recovery.   They each have blogs or care pages so I can read their thoughts, feelings, and experiences along the way.  They inspire me.  They are choosing to trust God and look at the best side of things as much as possible.   It’s not that they are “Pollyannas” or candycoat their experiences; they’re honest and real and that is probably the biggest inspiration of all. Continue reading

To my friend, you know who you are

I don’t have any wise answers.

I don’t know what the outcome will be.

I do know how it feels like a surprise punch in the gut to receive bad news, or at least news we hoped would be different

I don’t plan on quoting lots of Scriptures to you.

I don’t plan on downplaying your emotions.

I do plan on standing with you and hopefully bolstering your strength.

Take my hand, we can even link arms like when we were kids and played Red Rover,

“Red rover, red rover, hey cancer come over

We’re ready for you

Me and my friend here

The one who’s not alone

In fact, if you look on the other side of her you’ll see some of our other friends linking up too, our line stretching and growing

In fact, if you look more closely you’ll see Jesus down there on the end.  He’s our anchor.

You’ll have a hard time knocking us over or breaking through.

There’s too much love on our side, God-given peace and strength you can’t understand or explain.  You might as well give up and go home.”

To the enemy, with the overwhelming love and tenacity building in my heart I almost feel I could take you on myself

To my friend, you know who you are

If you get tired or sad or afraid lean on me as I lean on Jesus.

Look!  There’s hope ahead.  Healing in ways only God can dream up and bestow.  Love and faith, freedom from fear.  Laughter and dare we say…joy.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, can tear you away from God’s fiercely faithful and loving embrace.

Rest in that truth tonight, my sweet friend.  I asked God if every thought of you could be considered a prayer and He said “sure.”

I love you.

Shift

It’s happened before, numerous times actually.  God shifts my gaze from myself and my so-called problems to Him.  Unfortunately, I seem to gradually rotate back to my old way of thinking and often need Him to turn me around again and again, back where I see only Him.

Last weekend he turned me around by letting me see a special friend who is in the midst of her fight against cancer.  I hadn’t seen her in person since her diagnosis and it moved me more than I expected.  Though she has lost her hair and we both look older, in her beautiful eyes I still saw the real her.  Love flooded through me and then shame for being so caught up and overwhelmed by my “problems.” Continue reading

Day 23 – Rainy

On days like this my mood seems to mirror the outside, drippy and gray.

Breakfast with a good friend was an uplift and blessing.  Instead of withdrawing when I feel down, which is my tendency, I need to be with a friend and be a friend.

I often start cleaning when I’m thinking hard, frustrated, or need to release pent-up energy.  You should see my spotless kitchen.  I guess that’s one of the perks of parenting teens!

Oh, and today I received the award “Strictest Parent Ever”.   Thank you, thank you…I’d like to thank the little people who aren’t so little anymore for giving me the opportunity.

Hugs are good.  I need some more.  Where is that husband?  I’m going to go get a hug or two right now.

I accidentally included a reimbursement check of ours in with my work deposit last night!  Fortunately when I called the branch they said they found it.  Oh my.  What will I be like when I’m 70?  Stick around – it should be entertaining!

I’ve always thought it would be kind of fun to work at Target.  What do you think?  Do you think the magic would wear off if I was there all the time?  I don’t think that’s possible.

I’m using The Message version in my daily Bible reading plan this year and love it!  I found this verse yesterday in Proverbs.  I thought of writing it on a poster board and sticking it by the door:  “Dear child, if you become wise, I’ll be one happy parent…”  (Prov. 23:14-16)  The verse before that one says “Don’t be afraid to correct your young ones, a spanking won’t kill them.”

As I drove to breakfast this morning I heard a beautiful song.  The words made me cry.  Please take a minute to listen to this:

Places where grace is, soon to be so amazing…

Oh Lord, let it be true.  I’m counting on You.