Getting older.

Tomorrow, my best friend turns another year older.
And as I think about how we'll celebrate, I'm reminded that everybody deserves a day.
A day where they are reminded that the world is a better place because he or she is here.
Unless of course the world is NOT a better place -- then we should just avoid the party altogether.

But really, mostly everybody should get to have a day that's all about them!
And it's just my observation, but after about age 10, birthday parties are kinda lame.
I have adult friends who haven't had a "Oh my word we're so glad you were born" party since they were very young (if ever).
I wonder why it's so hard to just speak words of blessing and rejoicing over someone -- whether it's her birthday or not?
Why do we hold back when it's so clear that, "I'm grateful for you", or "I chose you", could change the trajectory of that person's day?
Are we're afraid that if we hand out the "goods" (you know affirmation, love, respect, honor, delight) there won't be enough left over for us?
Or is it just too big of a risk to set ourselves aside -- our time, our wants, our plans, our desire to be chosen -- and just chose?
I don't always know what it is that keeps me from just taking the plunge and just pointing out the obvious to the people I love...
You matter.
God did a really great thing when He made you.
You are a treasure to me and lot of others.
I'm so honored to be your friend, neighbor, co-worker, 

daughter, mom, wife.
 
Which brings me back to tomorrow...
Because tomorrow is definately a day to make some noise, jump up and down, and shout Hooray!!  
48 years ago, on 9.28.62, Kelly Scott Fair came onto the scene.
And the world, and my life, has most certainly been improved.

I'm going to look for my noisemakers (think wooden spoon 
and the lid to the skillet), 
who are you going to celebrate tomorrow?

The campfire conspiracy.

Don't tell my kids, 
but we have a secret weapon.
Just when we think all is lost,
that the pull of being a teenager whose
hands are busy texting, ears are blocked
by "buds", and mind is anywhere and everywhere, else...
We build a campfire.
Yep, a few pieces of wood and a match or 20 & we're back in business.  

Before we ever had kids -- I remember an older friend telling us that anytime he was worried or wondering about what was happening with his girls, he would build a fire in the backyard, get the marshmallows, graham crackers & chocolate out and then, just wait. It wouldn't take long before both his daughters would open up about whatever it was that was pulling them off-center.
Back then, when we first heard him say this, I remember being arrogant enough to believe I would never need the magic powers that are available through the campfire.  MY kids were always going to talk to me.  
MY kids would always invite me into their lives.  
MY kids wouldn't need to be bribed with sweets & burning wood.
MY kids....
      well, you get the picture.

But here's the deal - MY kids, your kids, all kids,
are carrying stuff like we can't imagine.  
Even when you think you're watching all the time (as if that's possible)
and you think you know what it is your child is up against, 
he or she can drift away. 
And you're standing right there watching. 
Praying.  Advocating.  Loving.  
All of that can be true and your child can still 
look you right in the eye and then turn and walk away.  

And sometimes if you're thinking fast, 
you run out and light the fire.
And then, if it's one of those magic nights...
                             they turn around and walk back.

Could be the smell of burning wood or the chocolate and marshmallows.
Or maybe, just maybe it's the safe spot that is your love.
Whatever it is, when it happens -- when you sit there for hours and 
they tell you their secrets and talk about their dreams...
All of a sudden everything seems possible again and 
You'd give just about anything for 5 more minutes around the fire.

Friends - new and old.

Last night I had the privilege to be in the room with 4 women who
I have known nearly 25 years but haven't seen in awhile.
High school and college friends who gathered to reconnect and remember.
In fact, as I sat beside my college roommate, a woman I haven't seen for over 20 years,
I kept thinking...
         "It's like she just walked in from microbiology lab".
She was, and is, full of life and joy and -- she's really funny.

Every person in the room is living this full, glorious, crazy,
"what in the world is coming next" kind of life.
Kids leaving for college, daughters getting married,
businesses being built, classrooms being managed, households being run,
and one of us (no names here, Jillynn) with a toddler still at home!

And other than the 17 children we have between us and
the combined age of, well... A LOT,
nothing's really changed.
But actually, that's not true -- when you listen beneath the surface,
you could hear that everything has changed.

There has been amazing and yet difficult work taking place in all of us.
While we've been navigating life, raising children, loving husbands, and
figuring out how to best honor extended family and friends...
we've been living lives we hope will bring the Father glory.

Once last night I closed my eyes and we were 19 again.
Laughing at something stupid I had done, listening to each
others hopes and dreams, crying over something really difficult one of us
was facing, and then laughing again.

I'm honored to know these women.
To be 45 with them.
Glad that some things never change...
but then, grateful other things do.

Home.

Recently, I've been thinking some about home.
Not the one I live in here.
That would be the one that currently needs a thorough cleaning,
a fresh coat of paint, and oh yeah -- a new roof.
Nope, I've been thinking about my actual home.
The place I really belong.
Because there is a place...
big enough to hold all my worry,
absorb all the struggle,
and answer all the wondering about when, if, why, and "how come?".
When I walk into that space, my rest will be enough,
my tears will be no more, and my joy will be complete.
The day that everything becomes possible,
when the 2nd, 3rd, & 4th chance feel just like the 1st, &
my need to scrap and claw and prove are over...
I'll know I'm home.

Forever,
    for good,
       forgiven.
Heaven.
The only home I've ever needed or actually really longed for.

 
(the images aren't that great -- but the words...oh my)

Sing Me to Heaven

Text by Jane Griner

In my heart's sequestered chambers lie truths stripped of poets' gloss
Words alone are vain and vacant, and my heart is mute
In response to aching silence, memory summons half-heard voices
And my soul finds primal eloquence, and wraps me in song

If you would comfort me, sing me a lullaby
If you would win my heart, sing me a love song
If you would mourn me and bring me to God,
sing me a requiem, sing me to Heaven

Touch in me all love and passion, pain and sorrow
Touch in me grief and comfort, love and passion, pain and pleasure
Sing me a lullaby, a love song, a requiem
Love me, comfort me, bring me to God

Sing me a love song, sing me to Heaven

Walking with Dreamers.

There have been times that I've been accused of being a dreamer.

Head in the clouds.

Not practical.

If you only had a plan to back up all your energy.

Yep - a dreamer.

You know what, I don't care -- in fact I'm starting to like it!  

A lot.

 
Recently, my family was at this huge "amish-like" restaurant (where we go once a year to completely stuff our faces with carbs) and this sign was hanging on the wall.
I want this sign -- for real.
I like what it has to say about dreaming AND believing.  To do both, you do have to have courage and cheer.  It's helpful to have a good plan too (which I'm still working on seeing the value of).  But mostly I love the line right there in the middle: THE SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE WITH THEIR HEADS IN THE CLOUDS AND THEIR FEET ON THE GROUND.  

Makes me think about heaven every time.  

I live here -- but I Do. Not. Belong. Here.  A hard concept to remember in the midst of strategy sessions at work, saving for college, getting the kids (and myself) to the dentist, and trying to figure out why sometimes I need a vacation...
after vacation.  


Tonight, I'm going to go to bed dreaming.
And tomorrow, when I wake up -- I hope I'm still dreaming, 
about the day when relationships are easy, doctors reports don't matter all that much, rest is refreshing, and my kids put away their laundry without being asked.
And that maybe, just maybe you're walking with me! 

Front porches.

Long ago, house designers knew what they were doing. Before there was ever a toilet to replace the hole in the ground or a king-size pillow top instead of a bed of hay to rest our weary selves upon, there was a front porch. Those guys were smart. I know they added them on to the front of big old farmhouses to grab evening breezes that would be the only hope of cooling off during the long, hot days of Summer. But then they started building dwellings in groupings called "neighborhoods" and they put front porches on those houses too.

Again, so smart.

I live in one of those homes and 100 years or so later -- I still benefit from this space added right outside the front door.

There's so much to see, experience, learn -- from your front porch...
if you're just watching.

From my spot on the porch I've seen sorrow, love,
forgiveness, the fight for independence, reconciliation,
care of the earth, fear, rebellion, trust, and hope.

Yep, I've watched my neighbors (my friends) --
teach their kids how to ride their bikes, take care of their gardens,
pack a child to head out for college, leave a spouse (and then return just to leave again),
fight like crazy in the front yard, hug and kiss someone who's been gone for ages,
cook for each other, laugh like nobody's business, broken and weeping on their front step, and
sit together, quietly holding hands with someone they love.

ALL OF THAT, from my front porch.
And no, I wasn't being Gladys Cravitz -- I was just paying attention.

And then, sometimes when you're sitting on your porch, people stop by just to say "hello".
They'll sit awhile and tell you the latest, catch you up on what's been happening with the kids, and maybe share their story -- even if it's just a little bit.

Porches have a power no other "room" in the house does.

Sometimes, my front porch feels a little bit like my soul -- ready, open, willing and then sometimes "closed for business".

But the thing I love most about my porch is the invitation... "Come join me".

I'd like my soul to be an invitation too, one that says, "Come sit awhile, let's share the journey".

And if you need to borrow a cup of sugar -- I could probably hook you up with that too.

Words on the wrist.

Words are powerful things.
In fact, I've been in love with words and their capacity since I was a little girl.
Words like TRUST, HOPE, KNOW, LOVE.
Those words have absolutely changed my life.
They have moved me forward on my journey -- stepping out into the next right thing, taking a risk I never thought I would be able to, and believing in such an enormous way that sometimes it threatens to swallow me whole.
Which I think, is the point of believing.

But there have also been words that have laid me low.
Whether they were ever spoken out loud or I just chose them like so many charms on a damaging bracelet of shame, these words have gotten me stuck.
Liar. Broken. Unbelievable. No to be trusted.

Words.
The power to break us open to all that God has in store.
Or to break us down, slipping into a pit that makes us forget what has always been true.

Recently, I've decided to keep the words that are true about me -- close by.
Like literally on by body (see the picture!).
These are the words I "wear" on my wrists...
Faith.
Live the life you love.
Cancer is so limited...
and...
The secret things belong to the LORD our God,
but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever,
that we may follow all the words of this law. Deuteronomy 29:29

I like these words -- they help me remember, if I'm tempted to forget,
that I am God's girl and He always has and always will have my best in mind.

Enough.

Over the past couple of years I've had the privilege to celebrate "milestone" birthdays with some good friends. Each time, whether we've been in a big city or at the beach -- it's been a privilege to say to this dear one, in the presence of others who think she's special, "you are a gift to the world"! One of these trips was for my very own milestone birthday and I gotta tell you, there's nothing like being surrounded by LOVE. When you are intentional about the place and the people, this "being known" then has the chance to do its work. It finds its way into your bones and then, you end up waking up to what's always been true about you...

God has been dreaming about and for you, since you were being knit together in your mama's womb. A dream so big that nothing in your experience so far could ever have imagined it.

I hope I have lots of milestone celebrations left.
But for now, to the women I love...
Know this -- God's thinking about you right now and smiling.
You, just you, bring Him that much joy.
It's not what you've done or created or started or produced or achieved that He delights in.
It's you.
It always has been,
YOU always have been...
Enough.

Teachers and Students.

With school just around the corner, I'm thinking about my kids going back -- but I'm also thinking about the days when I stood in front of a classroom. I miss it almost every day. This Summer, I ran into a former student at the graduation of her younger brother. She's married now, making a significant contribution in her church and professional sphere. She is one of so many students who marked me deeply. Awhile back, I wrote this about her and every other student who called better things out of me...

I used to have students.
You know, like in a classroom, sitting at desks, me up front waxing eloquent on some topic I thought they just NEEDED to know to get them to the next level of learning.
I was sure I was teaching them so much.
Shaping young minds.
The thing I thought I would do the rest of my life.
Then I stopped.
Preparing lessons, going to a classroom, standing up front.
For almost 3 years I haven't been that person and I miss her.
Until today, I thought I knew what I missed.
I thought somehow it was connected to my love of learning and my passion to see that come alive in the next generation.
And while that may be part of it...
What I learned today, was that I miss them.
I miss the 18 year old, away from home for the first time.
Trying to figure out how not to be overwhelmed by college and yet look like he belongs.
I miss the 19 year old just figuring out that the mind REALLY is a terrible thing to waste and so she starts engaging hers, in discussions and conversations and matters that really matter.
I miss the 20 year old who wakes up one morning and realizes that she wants to make a difference for God's sake, at the same time her singleness is making her heart ache and she doesn't want it to matter so much.
I miss the 21 year old, with the "just ready to launch" look in his eye. Ready to take on the world, the church, his parents, the "system"...whatever - just ready.
I miss what they did for me and to me.
How they wrecked me for settling.
How they constantly made me laugh and want to pull my hair out.
How they called me to look for God in all the strangest places -- late papers, forgotten projects, missed appointments, and the most amazing "what-if" questions I've ever heard.
I learned all this today.
When I opened an email from a used to be 18 year old who's now a full-fledged grown-up person. With another degree, a great job, and a huge passion for living.
In the midst of her "catch up" email she taught me.
She told me thank you.
"Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for teaching me.
Thank you for challenging me.
Thank you for speaking truth."
Julia, it was my pleasure...
You're teaching me more than I ever taught you anyway.

Love.

So, I've been thinking a lot about LOVE.
Mostly I like it.
I like the things LOVE makes me do.
Like walking down the aisle toward a man I'm pretty sure I love, but 24 years later am certain has LOVEd me well. Or when I see someone or something I might have overlooked if LOVE hadn't grabbed me and turned me around.

I like the way LOVE makes me feel. Even when LOVE catches me off guard and makes my heart feel like its been turned inside out and squeezed in the middle.

I like the way LOVE makes me look, and really see...my neighbors, my family, my friends, & even strangers, with more clarity, more grace, more....LOVE.

But here's what I'm learning, in all my thinking about LOVE: I've got a long way to go. I've got MILES to walk until I really learn how to LOVE unselfishly, without regard for me and mine. I've got YEARS to live until my default is you and whatever it is that might be weighing you down.

But that's where Grace comes in. Just when I think I can't/won't take another step toward LOVE or I will never capture the moments that are right in front of me...

LOVE reaches out His hand and tells me to just breathe.
It is the magnitude of this LOVE, the vastness of it that can swallow me whole and yet hold me close -- for which I will always be grateful.

There's this old hymn by Frederick Lehman called The Love of God.
I haven't heard it sung in forever...

The love of God is greater far Than tongue or pen can ever tell... Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made, Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade; To write the love of God above Would drain the ocean dry; Nor could the scroll contain the whole, Though stretched from sky to sky.

Gotta go find my pen, for LOVE's sake.

Get up and dance.

Sunday, I held Alianna (the kid in the picture with the frosting on her face) the entire time I worshipped.

 

Cradling a baby in church -- now that's good stuff.  

Lots of snuggling, pressed close to your neck & chest for comfort.  A slow, gentle sway or a consistent, rhythmic pat on the bum for comfort.  

Baby's are sweet and fun to hold.  

But this, this embrace of an "almost too old for this" little person is something else entirely.  With her arms around my neck and her ever-lengthening legs wrapped around my waist -- I was reminded how much I need God.  And then, when we sang "Worthy is the lamb" and I just had to raise my right hand in adoration -- even though my left bicep was burning from supporting this gangly child -- I saw, really saw God holding ME.  Never tiring, never telling me to "sit down now and color".  

Nope, just holding me.  

And then, we sat down and she snuggled into my lap -- back against my chest and again the Holy Comforter grew inside me.  I heard Him say, "I've got you Suze. I've got it ALL."  

Your questions.  

Your loneliness.  

Your dreams.  

Your physical health.  

Your children -- right now and every day that follows.  

Your Dad and your Mom.  

Your marriage and your love.  

All of it.  I've got it.  

I've got you.  

And then, the last song began.  And this freshly bathed, hilarious, creative, ornery, lushly gorgeous creature -- who I have loved from the first moment I met her -- turned her face to mine and said...

You should get up and dance.  

And we did.  

She and I -- and God.

Starting...Again

So, in thinking about starting this dealio again...I wonder why? But then I think about the encouragement I've received recently to shake the cobwebs off and out of my voice and give it a go. And all those folksies were right -- there are just times when words are the only answer. And so, here we go ablogging -- Again.