I have decided to throw caution to the wind and discuss very adult topics with my kids. This might be a bad idea, but it was taking too much time and energy trying to skirt around uncomfortable subjects. In the past week we have had very lively conversations about organ donation, mental retardation, prejudice, homelessness and homosexuality. I'm not just bringing up these issues for debate amongst my 7, 6 and 4 year old; they had questions and misconceptions that needed clarification. I figured that they have already had to deal with their mother having cancer and the ramifications of that diagnosis, so trying to protect them from sensitive material was a moot point. Amazingly, it wasn't too difficult to talk about any of these subjects with them once I got started and they asked good questions and they weren't too blown away by talking about it. They don't know that these are embarrasing or awkward things to discuss and by presenting these things to them as material about which it is okay to talk to mom and dad, I'm hoping that they'll choose Lee and I as their information sources over less desireable fonts of knowledge.
Tonite at their school, my boys had a program called "Art Night". It took place in the cafeteria and there were about 5 or 6 craft stations. I've decided that big crowds of children do not appeal to me. Actually, I find this situation to be the opposite of fun and it usually ends with me cursing and shreiking at my children (but I manage to throw a smile on my face as soon as another mother comes within my force field). We started out at a station where kids could make snacks out of things like cheetos, blue frosting, graham crackers, marshmallows and maraschino cherries (I am not making this up). My boys saw a tray of celery and looked at it and said "What's that stuff?" It was a moment of motherly pride, knowing that my boys had no earthly idea what celery was. When I mentioned to two other mothers that being in that cafeteria, making those crafts was my idea of hell, they looked at me as though I had just spoken heresy. The highlight of the evening was when there was 2 simultaneous drink spills and one child announcing that we had to leave immediately because mother nature was calling. As if that were not enough, I had to man the front entrance booth; a 30 minute (which turned into 60 minutes) shift that I was guilted into doing. The first set of mom's that shared this task with me were a bit eager about their position as greeters and passed out bags of plastic trinkets in a very Kathy Lee Gifford manner. I did not share their enthusiasm. I was happy when this Chinese mom came along and took over for the other 2 ladies. She was equally uninterested in the whole process and she told me all about the Chinese government's one-child-only program, communism and why Chinese parents push their children so hard (in China, it seems, they are kind of like salmon swimming upstream, all trying to beat each other to get ahead). That was my take home message of the evening; find an interesting mother and talk to her. The kids take home message is that their mother becomes a stark raving lunatic at sanctioned school events.
The good thing about the God that I serve is that my shortcomings come as no small suprise to Him. He is not shocked or appalled at my behavior. He is so willing to forgive and forget if I simply ask (and my kids are pretty darn forgiving as well). Despite my intolerance and lack of patience, He loves me no less. As He told Peter, there is not a finite number of times that you should forgive a person, "not just seven times, but 77 times".
So, I move forward knowing that tomorrow brings a new day and just so thankful that I have a tomorrow.
"The call of God is not a reflection of my nature; my personal desires and temperament are of no consideration. As long as I dwell on my own qualities and traits and think about what I am suited for, I will never hear the call of God...The majority of us cannot hear anything but ourselves. An we cannot hear anything God says. But to be brought to the place where we can hear the call of God is to be profoundly changed."
Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Mercy
Our 91 year old neighbor, who lives with her son and daughter-in-law, has been by herself for the past week because her son and his wife are out of town. This lady is sharp and you'd never guess that she is 91 years old. She is quick-witted and nobody's fool. Our conversations usually cover a wide range of topics and nothing is taboo with her.
While she has been alone the kids and I have been checking on her. The other day, on our way to church, I mentioned, aloud, that we would need to check on her later that day. My 4 year old daughter thoughtfully suggested that we go and stay at her house for the next several days. My middle son, not wanting to be inconvenienced at all, shreaked at that idea. Next, my daughter offered that she should come and stay with us; again a very generous thought. Now, my middle son was really in a fit. "There is no where for her to stay!" he bellowed. My daughter reminded him of our spare bedroom. "She'll mess everything up!" he protested. She told him that it was okay because we could clean up after her. "Why don't we just go put her in one of those old people places!" he concluded. This was a rational train of thought for him. We had just recently visited my 90 year old grandmother who lives in an assisted living facility, so the concept was fresh in his recent memory. There was no way he was going to share his living quarters with this lady. So the obvious solution, if it was good enough for his great grandmother, was to put her out to pasture. It is so strange. My daughter is so completely generous; she'd happily give you her left kidney. He, on the other hand, would leave you bleeding in the street.
Sometimes we all still feel the aftershocks of my cancer diagnosis. They are like the little ripples in the pond. My oldest son has been extra clingy lately. I try to be sensitive to him, but I have to admit that it gets tiresome. Then I have to remember that he is only 7 years old and I take a deep breath and give him what he needs, which for him is a lot of love and affection. At times it feels like my well is going to run dry and then I have to remember that God never pushes me away and never gets tired of my neediness. When we were returning from the grocery store the other day I was explaining to him that a group of friends had given us a gift card for the store after I had my surgery. He thinks about it for a minute and then he asks me, "What was it like, your surgery?" I remind him that he was around and he can remember me having the surgery. He responds, "I know that, but I didn't have the surgery. What did it feel like, for you?" I was completely unprepared for his ability to be empathetic. So, since he truly wants to know, without drama or theatrics, but with complete candor and medical precision I tell him about how difficult, physically, the surgery and the recovery were for me. When I finish telling him about how it felt he thinks for a moment and then he says with the deepest sincerity, "Boy, you are really tough mom!" With tears in my eyes, because not only has he suprised me for a second time with his ability to understand the discomfort I endured but he can appreciate it, I thank him and tell him that it was easy to do because I had 4 good reasons to go through it; he, his brother and sister and his father. I guess he thinks I don't really believe him or understand him, again he says, "No mom, I mean it, you were really tough." Then I realize why I need to be patient when he needs me. Bits and pieces are going to come out when I least expect it and I would be robbing he or his brother or sister if I am not willing to be compassionate to their needs.
I leave you with something I read out of The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence;
"I consider myself as the most wretched of men, full of sores and corruption, and who has committed all sorts of crimes against his King. Touched with a sensible regret, I confess to Him all my wickedness, I ask His forgiveness, I abandon myself in His hands that He may do whatever He pleases with me. The King, full of mercy and goodness, very far from chastising me, embraces me with his love, makes me eat at His table, serves me with His own Hands, gives me the key of His treasures; He converses and delights Himself with me incessantly, in a thousand and a thousand ways, and treats me in all respects as His favorite. It is thus I consider myself from time to time in His holy presence."
While she has been alone the kids and I have been checking on her. The other day, on our way to church, I mentioned, aloud, that we would need to check on her later that day. My 4 year old daughter thoughtfully suggested that we go and stay at her house for the next several days. My middle son, not wanting to be inconvenienced at all, shreaked at that idea. Next, my daughter offered that she should come and stay with us; again a very generous thought. Now, my middle son was really in a fit. "There is no where for her to stay!" he bellowed. My daughter reminded him of our spare bedroom. "She'll mess everything up!" he protested. She told him that it was okay because we could clean up after her. "Why don't we just go put her in one of those old people places!" he concluded. This was a rational train of thought for him. We had just recently visited my 90 year old grandmother who lives in an assisted living facility, so the concept was fresh in his recent memory. There was no way he was going to share his living quarters with this lady. So the obvious solution, if it was good enough for his great grandmother, was to put her out to pasture. It is so strange. My daughter is so completely generous; she'd happily give you her left kidney. He, on the other hand, would leave you bleeding in the street.
Sometimes we all still feel the aftershocks of my cancer diagnosis. They are like the little ripples in the pond. My oldest son has been extra clingy lately. I try to be sensitive to him, but I have to admit that it gets tiresome. Then I have to remember that he is only 7 years old and I take a deep breath and give him what he needs, which for him is a lot of love and affection. At times it feels like my well is going to run dry and then I have to remember that God never pushes me away and never gets tired of my neediness. When we were returning from the grocery store the other day I was explaining to him that a group of friends had given us a gift card for the store after I had my surgery. He thinks about it for a minute and then he asks me, "What was it like, your surgery?" I remind him that he was around and he can remember me having the surgery. He responds, "I know that, but I didn't have the surgery. What did it feel like, for you?" I was completely unprepared for his ability to be empathetic. So, since he truly wants to know, without drama or theatrics, but with complete candor and medical precision I tell him about how difficult, physically, the surgery and the recovery were for me. When I finish telling him about how it felt he thinks for a moment and then he says with the deepest sincerity, "Boy, you are really tough mom!" With tears in my eyes, because not only has he suprised me for a second time with his ability to understand the discomfort I endured but he can appreciate it, I thank him and tell him that it was easy to do because I had 4 good reasons to go through it; he, his brother and sister and his father. I guess he thinks I don't really believe him or understand him, again he says, "No mom, I mean it, you were really tough." Then I realize why I need to be patient when he needs me. Bits and pieces are going to come out when I least expect it and I would be robbing he or his brother or sister if I am not willing to be compassionate to their needs.
I leave you with something I read out of The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence;
"I consider myself as the most wretched of men, full of sores and corruption, and who has committed all sorts of crimes against his King. Touched with a sensible regret, I confess to Him all my wickedness, I ask His forgiveness, I abandon myself in His hands that He may do whatever He pleases with me. The King, full of mercy and goodness, very far from chastising me, embraces me with his love, makes me eat at His table, serves me with His own Hands, gives me the key of His treasures; He converses and delights Himself with me incessantly, in a thousand and a thousand ways, and treats me in all respects as His favorite. It is thus I consider myself from time to time in His holy presence."
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
The Lord Is My Shepard.
I'm probably going to be all over the map on this one. Before I had cancer, most of my identity was wrapped up in my accomplishments, namely being a doctor. This past year that identity was strippped away from me. My new role became cancer patient. I am really starting to appreciate that God doesn't catagorize me. I don't have to prove myself worthy to him. He's not so impressed with my accomplishments, neither is he too worried about my shortcomings. There is absolutely no way I could have survived this past year without him walking beside me, frequently carrying me. I have such a new level of trust in God. Before all of this I had so much confidence in my own efforts & concern about my own needs/wants/desires. I have become acutely aware of the part of The Lord's Prayer that states "thy will be done". It is like any intimate relatioship that you might have, you become less concerned about yourself and more concerned about the other person. You want to spend time with that person, getting to know them and you get excited to be in their presence. That is kind of how I feel about God these days. I have so much faith and confidence in him. So, now I have a lot of time to spend with him and I think this is exactly where I need to be. I don't think he brought me through this past year just for grins. I think he wanted to show me tht I could trust him and now I just need to wait patiently.
My oldest son is taking piano lessons and as I sit next to him during the lessons, I passively absorb all he is being taught. I find that I am the one sitting to practice at various times of the day. It is so friggin cool, b/c playing the piano is one of those things I would have just dismissed as not a possibility for me.
I just finished reading, "90 Minutes in Heaven" by Don Piper. He was dead for 90 minutes after a horrific car accident and went to heaven. The book is less about what heaven is like, than a discussion of his acceptance that, for many things on this earth, there is no explanation. We don't know why we are put through certain trials, but our experiences may serve to help others and this might be reason enough.
Psalm 23
1 The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need.
2 He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams.
3 He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name.
4 Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.
5 You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings.
6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.
My oldest son is taking piano lessons and as I sit next to him during the lessons, I passively absorb all he is being taught. I find that I am the one sitting to practice at various times of the day. It is so friggin cool, b/c playing the piano is one of those things I would have just dismissed as not a possibility for me.
I just finished reading, "90 Minutes in Heaven" by Don Piper. He was dead for 90 minutes after a horrific car accident and went to heaven. The book is less about what heaven is like, than a discussion of his acceptance that, for many things on this earth, there is no explanation. We don't know why we are put through certain trials, but our experiences may serve to help others and this might be reason enough.
Psalm 23
1 The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need.
2 He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams.
3 He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name.
4 Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.
5 You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings.
6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Who Is My Baby's Daddy?
I had very un-Christ like thoughts today. My sister-in-law invited the kids & I to go to the children's museum with her & my niece & nephew. Thursday nite is family free nite (commoner nite). I had a bad feeling about it going into it, but I didn't want to be the spoil-sport. At first it wasn't so bad; the crowd wasn't too dense & I could still see my children. Then it became like that Star Trek episode, "The Trouble with Tribbles". The place was so thick with the general public I thought I had descended into the bowels of hell. When I asked the docent if it was usually this crowded on Thursday nites, her response to me was, "No, normally we only bus in 6-8 buses, tonite there were 12 buses." From whence do these people come? The free part of the nite imploded because the only way I could pry my children out of there and away from the face-painting station was to coerce them with the offer of a Happy Meal. It just serves to remind me that nothing in this life is really free.
This morning my 4 year old daughter and I were on our way to breakfast and while we are driving she laments that she still has not found a boyfriend. Her preschool class is an integration of pre-K 3's (her class) and pre-K 4's and I blame those racey older kids for filling her head with match-making thoughts (pre-K 4's are notoriously flirtaceous, whorish almost). Horrified that my 4 year old daughter might already be thinking that she needs a 4 year old boy to make her whole, I remind her of her beauty and her intelligence and reassure her that when the time comes,she will have her pick of boyfriends. And I point out how much God and her daddy and her brothers love her. She is still worried, but not so much about the boyfriend as to her future breeding potential. "But mommy, if I don't find a boyfriend, who is going to be my daddy?" By this, she means who will father her theoretical children? I just birthed this child myself and she is already thinking about when she is going to be a mommy. It was almost more precious than I could stand. I'm not sure what I said to make her believe that she need not worry, but as quickly as the subject comes up, it goes away. I did tell her that I am already praying for her and her brothers' future mates. With a conversation like that this morning, it is never too early to start praying.
I am learning a lot about forgiveness right now. Mostly that it is a choice rather than a feeling or emotion. It's an act of will and when you decide to forgive, you have to reign in bitterness and miscontent. Earlier this week I read an exerpt from Streams in the Desert by Mrs Charles Cowman "If we remain groveling on the low ground of feeling and emotion, we shall find ourselves entangled in a thousand meshes of doubt and despondency, temptation and unbelief."
Isaiah 61:10 "I am overwhelmed with joy in the Lord my God!..."
This morning my 4 year old daughter and I were on our way to breakfast and while we are driving she laments that she still has not found a boyfriend. Her preschool class is an integration of pre-K 3's (her class) and pre-K 4's and I blame those racey older kids for filling her head with match-making thoughts (pre-K 4's are notoriously flirtaceous, whorish almost). Horrified that my 4 year old daughter might already be thinking that she needs a 4 year old boy to make her whole, I remind her of her beauty and her intelligence and reassure her that when the time comes,she will have her pick of boyfriends. And I point out how much God and her daddy and her brothers love her. She is still worried, but not so much about the boyfriend as to her future breeding potential. "But mommy, if I don't find a boyfriend, who is going to be my daddy?" By this, she means who will father her theoretical children? I just birthed this child myself and she is already thinking about when she is going to be a mommy. It was almost more precious than I could stand. I'm not sure what I said to make her believe that she need not worry, but as quickly as the subject comes up, it goes away. I did tell her that I am already praying for her and her brothers' future mates. With a conversation like that this morning, it is never too early to start praying.
I am learning a lot about forgiveness right now. Mostly that it is a choice rather than a feeling or emotion. It's an act of will and when you decide to forgive, you have to reign in bitterness and miscontent. Earlier this week I read an exerpt from Streams in the Desert by Mrs Charles Cowman "If we remain groveling on the low ground of feeling and emotion, we shall find ourselves entangled in a thousand meshes of doubt and despondency, temptation and unbelief."
Isaiah 61:10 "I am overwhelmed with joy in the Lord my God!..."
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