The In-Between

One of my most memorable prayer letters started out with the shocking announcement that Jim and I were splitting up and leaving the children at the orphanage.  The truth is that while I was going to Canada for a son’s graduation, Jim was making a trip to South America, and a friend in Mexico was keeping the youngest kids for a few nights in the children’s home where she worked.

This summer is sort of like that.  The family is split up and all over the place.  I’m getting a small preview of the empty nest, which has its benefits to be sure, but it feels so unnatural.  The girls have been visiting their niece and older siblings for a few weeks, and Jonny, our youngest son, has been working with an older brother in another state.  We are all over the place geographically.

Meanwhile I am spending four consecutive weekends in four different states during this whirlwind summer tour – slash- “home assignment.”  Jim and I welcome the simplicity of traveling together, just the two of us, but it still just feels odd.  When I think of it, nothing feels right any more.

Next week is our designated time to have all the kids “home” again, although we aren’t really going to be home, but in at our temporary home base in Ohio.  Even having all our adult kids back together isn’t exactly natural.  I trust it will be wonderfully fun, but it’s just not the norm any more.

After that I will be in Dallas for a long weekend visiting with my mom and siblings in the house where we grow up.  We can’t wait to be together again like old times, but nothing about it will seem normal either.

A side of me just wants to fast forward and be home, at my own house in Mexico, looking at photos of the summer, sorting it all out in quiet devotional times.  Right now I am getting weary of too much food, too little exercise, too many thoughts and too little solitude.  Summer trips to the U.S. are like that. 

My heart cries out for normal, but as my international friends keep reminding me, “Normal is just a setting on the dryer, and most of us don’t even have a dryer.”  There is no such thing as normal.  Not until much, much later.

What I am experiencing this summer is sort of the in-between phase between big family and empty nest.  What I am living here on earth is this unnatural in-between thing between earth and heaven.  I feel it strongly.  My heart yearns for a normal that doesn’t exist outside of heaven.  For now I only get glimpses every now and then.

Scripture says that all nations will hear the good news, “… and then finally the end will come.”  I’m clinging to that truth.  That’s what keeps me going when the kids are scattered all over the globe and home doesn’t feel like home any more.  That’s what gives me strength to be so far away from my precious grandbaby and aging mom and dmil.

Like you, I desperately long for the end to come, but at the same time, I want our loved ones overseas to hear the good news before He returns.  Until then, I keep striving ahead, muddling through the unnatural junctures of life, and embracing the reality that I am doing something worthwhile.

One lie saying I keep hearing this summer is “It’s all good.”  It’s not true yet, but it will be someday.  No one can convince me that “it’s all good” to be so far away from so many loved ones.

IRL*My diet this summer is like my life, it’s not all good, and it’s not all normal or natural, but it’s all for a good purpose.

Feeling a Bit Shy

Amid some speculation that I will not be able to put a coherent sentence together without mentioning my precious grandbaby, let me just reassure you that if anything I am feeling shy about the whole thing.

Yes, the trip was glorious, and yes I am totally and completely smitten with the new family member, and yes I cried more than a few tears saying goodbye. In fact I had a mini-meltdown in Stuff Mart as I bought her Christmas present – a Hallmark book I had to read and record several times until my voice stopped cracking with emotion.

With that said, I know that others would love to be parents or grandparents and simply aren’t. For one reason or another God has not chosen to bless them in the same way. The same goes with my big family. Most people think we are nuts to have had seven children, but others are envious that God did not bless them with a healthy child for as many pregnancies.

Back when I lost a baby in my second trimester of pregnancy, the hardest thing I had to do was assist a friend in labor and childbirth. It was a bittersweet time.

My instinct is always to downplay my blessings to avoid hurting others unnecessarily. Is that weird? Maybe it’s the old people-pleasing gene coming back to haunt me. I’m not sure. All I know is that everyone I meet is facing some battle, and I hate to be the one to inflict injury by boasting of my bliss.

Meanwhile dh and I are planning to leave on Friday for three amazing days on the beach to celebrate our anniversary. We never did take a honeymoon, always intending to do that “someday.” Seven children later, someday never came. Finally we are ignoring the pocketbook and just going to seize the moment.

This, too, makes me feel a bit shy. I shared with our supporters our plan to escape on this hopefully romantic getaway, but now I worry about how people perceive it. Finances are tight, and this seems like a foolishly extravagant expense right at the end of the year.

What will people think? Just when I think I am free from this worry, it plagues me once again. What about my single friends, and those who are not-so-happily married? What about those who don’t live anywhere near a lovely but cheap vacation spot?

The world says to pursue and embrace pleasure and forget what people think. I don’t want to do that, but nor do I want to pretend it is a virtue to care too much what others think. Most friends are thinking nothing whatsoever. Probably they are rejoicing with me in my various celebrations this month.

Keeping it real, this is my story right now. I’m going from joy to bliss and back again. I am truly blessed.

My prayer is that you are experiencing God’s grace and peace, whether you are enduring heavy trials or a lovely reprieve.

IRL* My new name is GJ for Grandma Jamie, a title I am proud but shy to bear.

A Picture is Worth...

Grandma.

Time Travel

Why do I find it so difficult to live in the present?

Maybe I'm just not busy enough, or maybe I'm not disciplined enough to remain in the here-and-now. For some reason I forever find myself either rewinding the tape to relive, examine, and critique scenes from my past, or else I am fast-forwarding it to pre-play future events, trying out different possible scenarios.

For instance, I picture myself staying here in Mexico, growing old together with Methuselah*, and having grandchildren take turns coming to visit during the summer. I'll show them all the places their parents used to play, and read our favorite stories to them. (At this point in my pondering, if I'm ever careless enough to wonder aloud, Jim, I mean Methuselah, will jump in with some ridiculous comment like, "What will you serve for lunch that day?" or "What outfit will you be wearing?") Argh.

An alternate ending I dream up (usually after he bursts my bubble with some stupid remark) is of me as a widow living out the remainder of my old age in some unknown location. This particular ending gets less frightening the more I preview it. There is no terror in facing the uncertainty of the future because whenever I fast-forward the tape, in spite of all the blank scenes and potential tragedies, the one constant feature is that Jesus is always by my side. I take great comfort in that.

I used to joke about writing my entire life story in advance and then complaining about my kids' refusal to follow the script! (They were all going to be the perfect kids, and I, of course, the perfect mom....) Actually it's twice as fun my way, because I can dream and imagine one ending, and then enjoy the real story as it unfolds. God's story is always better than my imaginary one. Imperfect kids and mothers are more colorful and genuine than perfect ones.

How about you? Have you ever done mental gymnastics like burning your house down and then imagining which things you would miss if you lost them forever? Have you ever peeked into the future, not liked what you saw, and then made some changes to avoid turning into that person, or to avoid facing that preventable problem? Or just flitted to the past or future simply to find joy that eludes you in the present?

Then again maybe the rest of you are too busy to play these zany games. In your defense, living one day at a time is actually scriptural. And look hard enough, you’ll find plenty of joy and even hilarity right in front of you. No time travel required. Maybe I’ll try living in the present tense for a while, and stop dreaming about driver’s licenses I don’t have yet.

What a novel idea.

IRL*fast-forward or rewind, I'm still pushing "play."

*please refer to sidebar dictionary [Jamie Jo-speak] for the definition of starred item.