Sometimes the grass is greener in the past

When Kimmi first went to college, the school advised the students to stay on campus once classes started for at least six weeks before going home for a visit.  The purpose behind that recommendation is that it helps them engage with the other students and the college community as well as cutting ties with home a bit (getting used to being away from home).  I think it’s a great idea and though it was a hard adjustment at first (probably harder for me than for her), it did help Kimmi step into the college phase of her life more on her own.  She began “leaving” the phase of life she had with us at home – an important, necessary step to growing up.

When first away at school it might be easy for kids to keep wanting to go home and be in the familiar, comfortable situation they just came from.  Looking back, the grass might seem greener at home in the past where their high school friends lived, where they were comfortable in a home church and so on.  If they’ll turn around and look forward, however, step out and give it time, they find that independence, new friendships, experiences, possibilities and more can become their new “normal” and be pretty exciting.   They can change and grow, becoming more and more of who they are meant to be.  The world opens up in new ways that they wouldn’t have known if they went back and stayed at home.

I realize that sometimes when I look back the grass looks greener in the past.  This past weekend we went “home” to Indiana to attend our college homecoming weekend, see our college girls, and attend church where we did when we lived there.  We saw many old friends, enjoyed beautiful sunny fall weather, were blessed by a moving, encouraging worship service at church, and spent some really good quality time with our daughters.

John and I both agreed today that a little part of ourselves felt like it would be nice to go back there to stay.  It was comfortable there for us in many ways and we have lots of dear friends there.  We fit in and knew our place.  We have a lot of history there, too, all the way back to before we got married so of course it feels like home.

If I am honest when I look back though, Continue reading

Pastor Appreciation

October is typically observed as “Pastor Appreciation Month” in churches across the country, so I thought I’d share a few words of appreciation to the pastors that have made a difference in my life. Continue reading

He was there

I got my diagnosis on my mom’s birthday.  That just doesn’t seem right does it?  My surgery was that Friday, only five days later.  What a whirlwind week it was.  My parents dropped everything and drove to St. Louis to be with us, even though my dad was a pastor with a busy schedule.  I don’t remember how many days I had to stay in the hospital, I think only two.  I just remember with clarity an early morning blood draw to check my white cell count to see if I could go home.

Shortly after the lab tech left the room, my dad walked in.  He was carrying his garment bag and told me he was about to go back home but wanted to come see me first.  While he was with me, my surgeon, Dr. Billy, came in to tell me that my levels were low and I was going to have to stay longer in the hospital.  My heart sunk into a fearful thought that there might be more cancer.  Then Dr. Billy noticed they had drawn blood out of the arm that had an IV and it had diluted the blood sample.  He had them come back in and draw from my other arm, it was okay, and I was able to go home!

It may not sound like a big deal, but it helped so much that my dad was there.  I didn’t have to be alone through that brief unsettling moment.  He was thinking of me that morning and wanted me to know.  He was there because he loves me.  What did I do to get my dad to love me? Continue reading

Look beyond the ugly

We watch HGTV all the time, I mean a LOT.  For some reason it’s really fun to see homes, furniture, rooms and what not fixed up, updated, changed, painted, re-styled, and more…basically made better.  One of our new favorites is the Property Brothers in which Jonathan Scott, a seasoned realty agent, and his brother Drew, a contractor/renovator, convince people to trust them to create their dream home.

The show always starts with the brothers taking a couple to a fabulous updated home, one that holds all the items on their hearts’ wish list, and then letting the couple’s hearts crash into reality when they hear the price of that home.  Time for Drew to step up and tell them he can help make an older or outdated home into their dream home for less.

If the house hunting couple agrees to give it a go, Jonathan takes them to see all sorts of…well…not so lovely homes so they can pick which one they want to renovate.  I have to say I don’t blame the couples for wrinkling their noses at some of them.  What with the orange shag carpeting, the dark 70’s paneling, painted wrought iron railings, dirt and even mold, the fake stone front fireplaces and tiny kitchens with fluorescent lighting, the words “dream home” are not the first to come to mind! Continue reading

Didn’t see it coming

10 years ago, on the morning of September 11, 2001, hundreds of people went to work or about their morning routine in the city like they did every other day.  They didn’t know terror and tragedy were on the way, or that they would soon face death.  They didn’t see it coming.

8 years ago, on the afternoon of September 8, 2003, I received a cancer diagnosis from my surgeon.  I felt fine and had no unusual symptoms besides a small lump in my breast.  I didn’t see that coming, for sure.

About a month ago, here in town, a young couple riding on their motorcycle on a beautiful sunny afternoon was crushed between two SUVs because the driver coming up behind them at an intersection was intoxicated.  They left behind small children and many shocked, saddened family and friends.  They certainly didn’t know that was going to happen.

I could list story after story and we’ve all heard it before:  none of us knows what will happen tomorrow, or even in the next hour.   Time is far more precious than we usually realize or remember.  Just reminding you as I remind myself.

Kind of makes the silly things I get upset about trivial and ridiculous:  like the self-checkout clerk being a bit too chatty and helpful Continue reading

The noise upstairs

It just gets too quiet sometimes around our house these days.  Now that two of our girls are in college and our youngest is gone often with friends, I miss those sounds I’ve loved all throughout our life.  I miss the sounds of the girls giggling, talking, singing in their rooms or playing instruments, playing video games, having friends in and putting on plays, running in and outside the house, and just life.  I miss the sound of them walking up and down the stairs, doing dishes in the kitchen while singing to their iPod, typing away on the computer keyboard across the room, talking on their phones, or even watching TV.  Those sounds let me know my girls were home.

Last weekend all my girls were here, along with my oldest daughter’s boyfriend.  As John and I went to bed at night, I heard their footsteps upstairs, Continue reading

Worth It

If I based my worth on people’s opinions of me I would be whipped to and fro like a ride on one of those old wooden roller coasters.  It’s not really fun and it gives me a headache.

If I based my worth on how I feel about myself any given day or moment, I’d be just as fickle and unsure, my self-image battered and held hostage to whichever emotion ruled at the time.

Am I overly emotional at times?  Yes.

A little silly?  Um, yes.

Perfectionistic and holding unrealistic standards for myself, even without the input of others?  You bet.

Prone to make mistakes even on my best days?  Of course. Continue reading

Trialaphobia

She had just finished telling me how important antibacterial soap and lotion are and that she used hand sanitizer all the time.  She avoided touching handles in public and things that might be touched by a lot of other folks.  Then, before she left, she told me that she gets sick all the time.  She’s someone I’d label a bit of a germaphobic, in the kindest way of course.

Hold up, though, something isn’t adding up here.   She uses those preventative products religiously and gets sick more than people like me that don’t use that stuff very often.

On the grand continuum of using those anti-germ products, I stand closer to the “don’t care so much” end.  Don’t judge!  I’m a clean person, just not overly concerned.  I don’t eat off the floor, but I don’t bleach everything and use hand sanitizer all the time.  It’s just not me.  I also have pretty tough antibodies and don’t get sick very often.

I’m not saying I’m better, but I am saying that getting sick once in a while can actually make us stronger and more able to fight off the next wave of illness.   Now, don’t come over and sneeze on me just to teach me a lesson.

We humans also tend to be a bit trialaphobic: trying to avoid trials, challenges and suffering at all costs.  Is it that deep down inside we think that will help us avoid them even more in the future?   Or that life will be easier, more comfortable? Continue reading

If I got a tattoo

I know what it would have to say:  “It’s not about you.”

What is this constant, nagging, sneaky and subtle need we have to focus on ourselves?  It seems I work hard not to and ask God to help me put self aside and no sooner think I’ve made progress than I notice I’m thinking about myself again…or giving myself credit, or assuming something is up to me that is actually up to Him.

It’s one of those long-as-life projects, I think, and it’s not really my project.  It’s God’s.

I would probably benefit from having a tattoo that reminded me of this crucial truth every time I saw it.  Maybe it would be best across my forehead, backward so that when I looked in the mirror I could read it and remember.

It’s not that I should hate myself, or berate myself.  It’s not that I should think of myself as a loser, though sometimes I do. Continue reading

Not that I want to go there again…

Last year was fraught with stress, pressure, hurt, questions, doubts, frustrations…you name it!  In fact the last few years for us were pretty stressful in one way or another and brought some disappointments here and there.  That’s the way it is for everyone, I know, it just seemed to be ultra concentrated for a while.  My heart was gasping for God like suffocating lungs for oxygen.  I had to hear His voice, tried to find Him day after day and be near Him.

In this new chapter of life we’ve just started many of those pressures have been relieved.  Life feels a little easier right now.  The only problem is, how do I stay so intimately connected to God like I was before?  It seems I searched for Him more fervently when I didn’t know where the resources to meet our needs in each day were coming from or when I felt so at a loss for solutions that I simply fell into Him in hope that He had them ready.

It’s not like I want to go back, no, no, no, Continue reading