Grace - That Is All It Can Be

Again, only if you have been reading my blog for awhile will you grasp the weight of this post.  But even without knowing all, you can enjoy it.

My husband and I, as I said, are from different cultures.  When we married, there were not many of our type of mixed marriage.  It was a difficult engagement for both of us as all our friends warned us about each other.  My friends and extended family said some pretty hurtful things about my husband and what he might do.  My husband's extended family told him it would be better to marry a dog than a foreigner.  Thankfully, both of our immediate families were very supportive - although they both struggled to cope with the cultural issues that we encountered. 

In that setting, one where each of us had to continually defend the choice to marry the other to outsiders, we began to encounter typical marriage problems.  They were perhaps heightened by culture, but not entirely caused by culture.  Yet asking for help was difficult.  Who would we ask - all these people who heatedly told us not to marry each other?  Then they would say, "see, we told you so!"  And they did.  Others we asked only would say, "well, its cultural problems".  So we struggled on much longer alone than we should have.

We hit some pretty rough lows and our family went through a lot because of it.  We are grateful for one couple who decided not to tell us "we told you so" or "it is just culture problems and that is what you get for that type of marriage" and who did not get tired of the simple "being there" that it took to get us healthy again.

We are doing well now.  We still have cultural issues, and recently with some family things going on, they have been interesting, but we know now how to manage as a couple.  Peace, or as much of it as you can have in a house with four teens and preteens, reigns in our house, and we thoroughly enjoy each other.

In the last few years, there have been a few other marriages like ours.  It's fun to see them start out.  It's fun to have someone who thinks our life is completely normal.  Most of these couples are involved in ministry, too, so we have more in common.

Last year, we began talking and praying about an idea.  We wanted to gather these couples together for a retreat - a chance to be together, to develop relationships, to provide a place where we are normal, a safe place to talk, to encourage each other.  To be able to say, "I am here for you".  This year, we are going to do that.  We are meeting with about six other couples.  Some are doing well, I think; others I know are struggling.  I don't think of myself as an expert, but I want to be able to tell them, "hey, we're here, and we get your life.  We're safe to talk to."

If you knew me (or prayed for me!) years ago, this is the last thing you might of dreamed of us doing... but we are!  It is grace.  That is all it can be.

Holding the Pieces

I was just reading the facebook page of a missionary family that recently met with tragedy.  What happened breaks my heart.  There are hundreds of expressions of sympathy on their site.  I hope one day they can wade through them and be comforted with how many people care about them. 

But there was one comment that made me wince.  It meant to be kind, really.... but...

It said something to the effect that they were so sorry for what had happened, but were comforted by knowing that they were missionaries so they were sure that they would get through it fine since they had great faith.

sigh... if there is ever a time you don't want to be put on a pedestal it is when you have just hit tragedy!


We need permission to fall apart.... because sometimes we will.... and then we will beat ourselves up for it..... and then we worry if we say we are falling apart everyone will run from us when they discover we aren't perfect.

 Why can't we say, "If you fall apart, I'll be here to hold the pieces until you heal again."

The Flip Side of Grace

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you will know that I am on a slow walk towards grace and freedom.  My husband calls it "our freedom journey".  We're walking out of a form of legalism, of expectation based religion, out of constant criticisms, out of the "front" that missionaries so often portray, into grace, freedom, truth, transparency.

It's been quite the trip!

We both owe a lot to a few who have chosen to walk alongside of us.  Some have done that just for an afternoon, others for a year or so, and some have stuck with it for the whole ride.  We are indebted to them all, and each holds a special place in our heart; each we love.

If you've been reading for awhile, you will also know some things in our lives:

1. We're in a cross-cultural marriage.
2. We lost a child.
3. We went through a marriage crisis.
4. We went through a sudden work related crisis.

You will also know that I have struggled with each of these things.  I still struggle with some of them at different times.  Each has changed me.

Most recently, I have been struggling with the work-related crisis.  The crisis itself was not the hardest thing.  It was the reactions of others that were so hard.  But that is a story that has already been told as much as it can be told. My blog has been more silent as I walked through this lovely minefield of PTSD.  The horrible disconnect from everything is lifting, like fog as the morning sun travels towards the high point of the sky, and I am able to make out shapes and recognize others.  I'm at least to the point that I can verbalize some of what I am going through, and that is a big step in the right direction!

But I still hurt from what happened.  The surprising and difficult thing for me is "why did the hurt come from people who should have been the ones who most supported us?"  That question is hard.

I went to church last week tired.  I debated about just staying home, but instead I told God that I was too tired to listen or care, but if He wanted to speak to me, He could try. (Really, reading my blog will totally blow away the idea that missionaries are anywhere remotely close to perfect!)

Our pastor was talking about the idea that we think we deserve something to happen or not to happen based on how we have acted, and that God is not operating in the sphere of thought.

I listened!  And I began to think.

What if it is not me getting or receiving good things?  Me being rewarded with rewards.  Not resting or deserving good.  Not saying, "I've been through this or that, suffered that, done well, so I need a rest, a this, a that... to be protected, to be honored, to be.... "; but it is not our rewards that God is interested in - it is us God is interested in.  Us as His trophies.  Not as His things - as in a used thing uncared for; but as His show-off valuables, a thing delighted in, as in a work of art, a detailed delight.  "See what a good job I did on that one!" 

Stepping out of the works cycle means stepping out of both boundaries.  "I did bad - I will be punished" - yes, but also "I did good, I deserve good - to be protected, to be loved."  It would be an awful reality to live in that (out of that cycle).  Totally unfair - nothing I can do can help or hurt  - and my treatment is dependent on the capricious whims of someone else - except for this one fact: the character of the God we deal with.  That He is good and loving is the only thing that makes this whole crazy system work.

It is so outside of our way of thinking - so totally unfair.  Which is funny, because we will happily take the "bank error in your favor" unfairness, but aren't so thrilled about the "hey, but I was good!" type of unfairness.  The pain and unfair things coming in times it shouldn't from people it shouldn't.

Freedom from the "do this, do that" mentality means freedom from both ends of the spectrum.  One we greet with delight; one is harder to shake free from.  But there is only so much freedom in having one wrist unmanacled.

God is the same - trustable, good.  He is operating outside of our "fair" cycle because He is interested in us as trophies of His work, not as people who "finally get what we deserve" - either good or bad.  Some how that makes dealing with the pain caused by people who should have supported us easier to handle.

I think what hit me that Sunday was that I can't take grace as the freedom from the "you get what you deserve" and not take it as also freedom from "you don't get what you deserve".  What happens to us is not related in either way to what we deserve.  What happens to me is a result of a God who is trustable and who cares about me working to make me His master-piece.
 
(There is caution in how I say that.  Because of my past, I react very strongly to the thought of being used.  If you say, "God let you go through this so He could use you", you had better stand far away as I am liable to punch you.  God "getting anything" out of me sickens me.  I don't want to be a property, a used thing.  But put in the context of God is creating something beautiful that He will delight in - like a painting, and I can handle it.  I quilt, and I like nothing better than when someone takes time to stop and admire the quilt and see the stitches and design and hear the struggles and how I overcame them with this quilt.  I am not "using" my material, I am creating something that is both praised and gives me praise.)

A P.S. to Walking In

A post script to the questioning if we should be walking out or walking in....

It was something my husband and I discussed as we sat working on our puzzle after or team leader walked out of the room.  We wondered about something.

If there is such a reaction by christians at even the mention of the word "gay" or at anything having to do with it, what are we setting ourselves up for?  We are now the parents of teens - good teens for the most part.  We're proud of them.  When we were parents of toddlers, we pondered issues of toddlers.  We even thought over the "working mom/being at home mom" debate.  We had already made our decision on it, so we didn't need to think about it, but we did.  It was an issue that affected kids in the age our kids were.  I think we are now looking at teen issues in the same way... it is time to think about them and develop our thoughts because our teens are in this age - they will encounter these subjects, and we had better have thought about them, too.

What concerned us with the common reaction to anything "gay" by Christians was this:  What then happens when a teen has a question, a feeling, a anything?  What if a kid has a thought pass through his head.... who does he talk to?  If he or she can't talk to his parents or his youth leader or anyone at all in the Christian circles about this thought, "Why did I think that?  Why did I react like that?", who will he go to?  He will go to someone that is "safe".  Someone who doesn't react with horror and disgust.  That person will be someone he knows at school or on the internet.  That person will tell him, "well, maybe you are gay.  Gay people are born this way." 

We've reacted to the point that we are not safe to go to.  Instead of that teen being told truth in a loving way, "Thoughts come and go.  Having a thought pass through your head is not who you are, but it is something that happens.... thoughts come from things we've heard, seen, felt... and the devil would like to use them to tangle us up and get us off track.  I'm glad you shared that thought, because bringing them in the light takes the power away from them.  Let's pray, and then let's talk about how to counter those thoughts.  And let's talk again so you don't go through this alone."

Instead of that, we are pushing them away with our paranoia.

It is not that I believe these things, like homosexuality and other things aren't wrong, it is that I believe we need to be safe enough to talk to.  We will not ever communicate safety with hate and disgust.  Perhaps better with sadness and love.

It is similar to something we were all taught growing up.  Sex before marriage is wrong.  I still firmly believe that.  But it is more in how we were taught it.  Save yourself for marriage.  Be pure.  Don't be defiled.  There is a ton of words and phrases I could write out that would convey the messages that were common in the church as I was growing up, but those messages are painful, so I won't.

I was challenged and encouraged once by a man who sat at our breakfast table (after the kids left for school) discussing how he wanted to communicate this message that he still firmly believed in to his kids.  He said, "I don't want to communicate to them that a sexual sin puts them outside the grace of God or that they are damaged forever from one sin, while I still want to communicate sexual purity.  I just want to do it without fear and condemnation that leads them to hide their struggles from us and feel like their spiritual life is over if they fail in this area."

I sat stunned.  I had never heard this from a Christian before, but I needed to.  What healing is in those words!  We do need to communicate clearly and with conviction to our children, but it has to be more than the "stay pure, that is what God wants, and no one wants something second hand".  It has to be more than that.  We have to be able to communicate with our kids that it is ok to talk to us, that even their struggles and failures are ok to bring to us.  I honestly hope with all my heart that my kids stay sexually pure, but even a deeper desire than that they don't sleep with someone, is the desire that if they do, they come back to God and be forgiven and go on.  I would rather that than the fear and shame of a sin being so great that they walk away from God because they think He will never forgive them or see them as having the same worth.  We have to stop making some sins the unforgivable sins.

I am sure I could be accused of not caring or not placing enough worth on purity.  If I am, so be it.  Just because I care about one thing more than another thing does not mean I do not care about the first.  It just means the other is more worth to me.  I care about my kid's purity.  I care even more deeply about their relationship to God. 

Now I will tell you where my personal story interacts with these thoughts and why I value what this man said so much.  I grew up in the "stay pure, don't be defiled" environment as a child who had already been defiled.  Before I even understood what sex was, I was abused by some men who saw an opportunity to use a defenseless child.  The constant teaching of the church - which was well meant - was a constant reminder that I was not good enough.  I was defiled, and there was no getting that back.  "If people knew....."  (Which, by the way, was the same thing my abuser had said to keep me quiet, "don't tell, if people know, they won't like you.")   The very teaching that was to help us ended up hurting me.  When purity is valued so highly that there is never talk of grace, of forgiveness, of restoration,... this hurts children who have already been hurt.  When sexual sins are made so much of that they are taboo... much, much worse in comparison to other sins (how about greed, hate, backbiting, gossip, violence, stealing...) it says that these are only sort of forgivable.  You can be forgiven, but you will never be the same.

I think as a church we have to wake up and stand staring at statistics for a minute.  When I was growing up, it was said one in every four girls in America were abused.  Now they are thinking one in every three.  We can't just preach to the 2/3s.  We have to rethink our approach to this whole area of homosexuality and sexual purity so that we can teach it without damaging the already wounded.  We have to be able to tell kids that when they struggle and fail, we will welcome them with the same love and acceptance as Jesus does.  That there is sadness and grief in failure, but not a shunning.  Their value is in being children of God.

And honestly, I think when they grasp that, they will be less likely to sin, not more likely.

We can not hurt our wounded.  We can not push away our struggling.  And we can not hate our fallen.

Jesus never did.

Can we let these topics be safe to talk about in the church, in our families, in our friendships?  Love is still more powerful than hate or shame.

Walking Out or Walking In

We sat in my living room the other day along with our team leader and another friend watching the late night news after a day of meetings.  A news article came on about gay marriage and the fight for gay rights.  Our team leader huffed and said that this needs to be banned, and no one can define a gay couple as a "family" since the very definition of a family is a unit to procreate, and gays cannot produce children.

I don't know what got into me, but I said it.  I am not pro-gay... honestly.  But then again, I am rethinking... maybe I am not either anti-gay...

I said, "Not all hetero-sexual couples can reproduce either."  Our team leader and his wife adopted due to infertility.  "You wouldn't classify you as not a family just because you couldn't have children.  The definition of a family has to be more than that."

He just said, "oh, so now you are using our adoptions as an argument for gays!" and got up and left the room.

I don't know if the man was offended or simply disgusted with gays or what.  He does abruptly leave conversations at times for reasons that are not always clear to others, so an abrupt departure was not too abnormal for him.  I asked my husband if he thought he was offended, and my husband sad he didn't think so.  I don't know.

My husband and I talked it over as we watched the rest of the news and worked on a puzzle spread out on our coffee table.  There is such an animosity to gay people, gay marriage, gay parenting and all.  Let me get it clear (I almost said let me get it straight, but that ended up looking funny in this sentence.)  I strongly believe that choosing a gay lifestyle is wrong.  I believe that it is not right at all.  But that is not the point here.

Why do Christians react so strongly and so negatively?  We wondered about that.  What point does that serve?  We wondered if the strength of the gay movement is fed partly in response to the heated animosity of Christians.  We wondered how our hate, disgust, and vehement fighting against their desire to have the right to marry, to have children, to.... whatever.... is leading at all to them learning of the love of Christ.  Has anyone been won to Christ by hate?

We work among a people in a religion that is not well loved.  People also fear and can easily hate people of this belief.  We believe and teach Christians not to hate - to befriend, to show love, to be kind, to see people.  We believe that if we hate and fight against these people, we will never win them for Christ.  It is in our love, in our acceptance, in our kindness, in our care that we are able to speak with our lives.

Didn't God says the world will know us by our love?

Then why do we hate?

I grew up in the church.  I know the answer to that question.  "We hate the sin, but we love the sinner."

Really?

Then why do we spit out the words when we talk about gays and lesbians?  Why do we fight so hard against them.

What would happen if we showed love?  I don't know what that would look like, but what would happen?  If we stopped trying to restrict their rights, if we stopped giving those looks, if we stopped whispering about them... if....

What if we invited their kids over, babysat for them, or simply started by smiling at the next gay couple we saw?  What if we handed out cool water or hot chocolate at one of their events - without having slogans or tracts or anything.  What if we just showed love?

And - even though many Christians will be scandalized at the thought - what if we stopped fighting their attempts to be able to be married?  Are we so insecure that we think marriage can be threatened by that?  Do we define ourselves only by our gender or our ability to produce children?

I personally think that marriage is something greater and bigger than the definitions I've heard given in support of opposing gay marriage.  I've heard that it is "one woman/one man" or this recent one "family is designed to procreate".  I personally believe that marriage is intended to be a demonstration of Christ and the church - of that unity, that love that is above and beyond all else.  We are a living example of Christ's love.  Marriage is a example of how Christ loves us.  There is nothing a gay couple can do which can threaten or destroy that.  We have nothing to fear....  nothing, perhaps, other than that existence of our own hate and fear destroying the image of Christ's love in us.

It's true that we have no example of how Jesus treated gays.  None.  It would have been easier for us, maybe, if we did.  But we don't.  What we have is only the example of how He treated the two most hated groups in His society - the prostitutes (and the woman at the well who wasn't even getting paid for her "services") and the tax collectors.  Both groups where the religious society drew up their robes tighter around them in horror.

But Jesus didn't.

I'm re-thinking my religion.  I'm not re-thinking my stand on homosexuality.  But I am  re-thinking the whole "hate the sin and love the sinner" idea.  I'm thinking we too often say that, but clearly communicate "hate the sin and the sinner" idea.  Like when we walk out in disgust at the very mention of a gay person.

Who's going to share the good news with them if we walk out?  Maybe we need to be walking in to their lives instead?

Of Wounds, Dressings, and Scars

My oldest is a strange child.  The boy has almost no sensation of pain.  I say almost because I have seen him cry once or twice.  He was deathly afraid of needles and would cry at the thought of getting a shot.  He also cried the other day when someone slammed a door down on his head and left a goose egg.  Other than that, he has little sensation of pain.  He ripped open his arm two years ago and needed 40 stitches, but "it doesn't hurt at all, mom".

Last week, he went running and jumping across the parking lot, even though it had just been covered with ice.  He was supposed to bring in our bag from the van.  He came back with the bag and the first aid kit.  "Why did you bring that in?  We don't need it."

"You will need it, mom." was his only response.  Then he turned.  In his new jeans, there was a three inch tear at the knee and blood was pouring down his leg.  He had run and slipped on the ice and hit the curb.  I had him take off the jeans, and the skin on half the knee cap was gone and three large slices were cut under that.

Sigh...

Thankfully, it took off enough skin that the gravel that went in it came off with the layer of skin.  I did need to wash it, so I sprayed it with a bottle of sterile water.  The kid giggled and wiggled.  "Mom!  It tickles! Don't!"  I dried it with a 2x2 guaze, pushing hard to see if the bleeding had settled and what was what in the cuts.  "Does this hurt?"  "nope!  I mean, I can tell you are pushing on it, but I don't feel anything!"

Honestly, the lack of pain is not a good thing.  Pain is given to us to teach us.  We learn, for example, not to swing on rusty bars, not to run on ice, to pick up our feet when we walk, to use the steps when going downstairs.... but without pain, he doesn't learn these lessons.

It's been almost a week.  Every day, sometimes three times a day, I have changed the dressing, washing, putting more antibiotic cream on, non-stick bandages, allowing it to heal.  In a cut, I can pull the edges together, holding them either with steri-strips or stitches (yes, I own a stitch kit or two... these boys!).  Then the edges seal, and the wound heals from the top in with little scarring.  Healing by primary intention.  Healing the way it should be.

But sometimes, there is no skin left.  There is no way to pull the edges of protective skin together and allow the healing to take place deep inside with minimal scarring.  When the skin is ripped away, it will heal by secondary intention - from the bottom up.  With this wound, it was the best I could hope for.  Still, I can care for the wound.  I kept it covered.  I kept it clean.  Daily, I washed it.  I covered it with antibiotic cream - both to kill germs and to keep the skin soft, so it would heal cleanly from the bottom up with little scarring.

Care.  Gentle care.  Meanwhile, my son giggled and wiggled and begged me not to wash it.  He'd rather just leave it open so it scabs over and dries out.  A bandage slows him down.  But I insisted.  I didn't want a big lump of white scar tissue to be in his way for a few years as he played and knelt.

A week later, it was looking great.  Slowly healing.  The open red skin turning white, the depth of the scrape lessening.  I took the bandage off and sent him to go shower before I would re-dress the wound.

Pain.  It is a good thing.  This kid doesn't have the convenient teacher of pain.  He set off running for the shower (why walk when you can run?) and tripped on the first thing he encountered - a step in our dining room.... it's been there the whole six years we've lived here! - and fell.  He hit his knee on the edge of the step, and stood up.  He looked down at the wound and said, "Interesting." and reached down and pulled off a flap of skin that he scraped back off.  Then he turned to look at the step and picked up another piece of skin he had left there.  The wound was open again, and bleeding down his leg.

Sigh...

We're back to bandaging and oiling his wound.  With him, the bandages do a few things.  They cover and keep it clean.  They allow it to heal by secondary intention, but with little scarring.  But they also remind him that he is injured, and cushion the blows that keep coming.  And when the bandage is soaked, I change it once again.

Healing by primary intention is good.  That is when the wound is a clean cut and we get immediate care.  Failing that, the edges may never stick together, or the wound sheared off too much for there to be edges.  Then we have to heal by secondary intention.  That can still be done well - if care is given.  If the wound is washed, oiled, and bandaged - protected and cared for.  When that is not done, when a wound is just left open to air, unwashed, uncared for .... eventually it will still heal, but it will leave a bigger scar.  It will be obvious for years or perhaps forever... there is a wound no one cared for.

That is how I feel about my heart right now.  I'm going on.  I will go on.  I am surviving.  I am moving into new areas of ministry and I still enjoy my work.  But I have a scar.  There was a wound no one cared for.  It did heal, but it healed badly by secondary intention.

One thing I've learned about scar tissue is that it has consequences.  Just this weekend, a friend showed me her back.  She has a two and a half foot long scar curving the length of her back - a remnant of the consequences of her choice to choose Christ.  She's having pain when she works hard and wonders what is wrong.  I examined the scar and the muscles surrounding it.  I think the wound was initially cared for well, but she was sent home, and people were frightened of her wound, so no one washed and bandaged it again.  They were afraid they would faint.  Afraid they could not face the pain of looking at her back.  So she was left alone.  She has more scar tissue than was needed.  I think that now, when she has a physical job, that scar tissue is pulling, and that causes pain.  My incision from surgery did for years, and still does occasionally if I lift too much, hike too far, or work too hard.  I've learned that it will do that, but not to worry.  Actually, as I pushed through the pain, some of the scar tissue broke up.  I hope hers will, too, but I am going to do some research to see what can be done to help her.

Scar tissue can cause pain.  Even after healing.  That is why I work so hard to heal my son's wound.  My friend's scar causes her pain.  Mine cause me pain.  It has healed, but it could have been healed by primary intention.  It could have been healed even later by secondary intention if it had been covered and cared for.  It wasn't, and when the scar tissue pulls, it reminds me... no one was there to bandage and cover with oil.  That fact also hurts.

I can't fix that.  Instead, I can only go on.  And today, I look at my friend's wound, listen to her story, and tell her I wish I had been there to wash and dress her wound.  I run my finger along its length, gently probing its depth, and marvel at her courage.  I promise to do what I can to find out what has promise in decreasing scar tissue, in helping her be strong enough to push through the pain.  And I dress my son's wound again and again, ignoring his wiggling and giggling, determined that he will heal with as little scar tissue as possible.

That Person... you know....

Ever have to deal with that person who appears nice.... but leaves a bad taste in your mouth?  It is just the little comments, the sarcasm, the rudeness, the little digs.  As time goes on, it wears on you.  Yet if you respond, they would say, "what is the big deal?"

We have one.  It is constant.  Almost daily.  Little things.  Never (well, seldom), an outright meanness... just constant little things.  E-mails to us, to others but cc'd to us... little jabs.  If we don't do things just as this person likes when this person likes, there are those little comments.

How do you deal with that?  I've thought of a few tactics, but not sure the value of them.

One is blunt honesty - "I do not appreciate this type of behavior.  Please quit it."

Another is more passive - ignore all messages that contain rude and sarcastically rude comments.  When questioned on why something wasn't done, state that you deleted the request because it was rude and are waiting for it to be stated politely and respectfully.

Keep enduring - until we get really irritated with it, and then end up snapping at each other because we are fed up trying to endure.

I am not sure what is the wise way to deal with it.  I just know that I have almost had enough.  It seems like it is this person's way of "encouraging" or "degrading" you into doing things when and how this person wants.  It actually has the opposite effect - we want to do less and less for this person the way they want it done.  Actually, we want nothing to do with this person and strive to be away from them as much as possible.  You know - the type when you see their number show up, you let it go to voice mail.


sigh... wishing Christians were more perfect....  One day, heaven.  In heaven, we will be.  In little day to day things of working with difficult people, this also encourages me.  One day, heaven.

Until then, any ideas?

Holding My Breath

I just painted my son's room.  Beautiful blue with a mural of planets across all the walls.

I'm holding my breath....

Last time I painted a mural on my kid's room, we got the news we were moving in a few weeks.

A Handful of Marbles - or am I losing mine?

Apparently, no one wants to discuss the thought of having to deal with homosexuality close up.  :)  Oh well....  we can keep pretending it only exists "out there" with "those people" for a little longer. 

In the meantime, I am almost finished filling in for a coworker with a broken foot.  I'm exhausted.  Working two jobs is not good for me while trying to maintain ministry and family.  And I hurt my back, or my hip, I think.  Pulled a muscle in my hip, so lifting old people is a pain - literally.  So is walking.  And wearing heels.  Sadly, I have no cute, warm winter shoes that don't have heels, so I keep putting beauty before pain and deeply regretting it later.

Two girls at my work are pregnant.  It seems that husbands, or even steady boyfriends, before getting pregnant is a thing of the past.  What is saddest for me is that one is supposedly a solid Christian, going to church, professing belief and all, and yet sees no problem living with her boyfriend.  It saddens me.  Perhaps because I know about marriage - which is an incredibly tough venture, but one worth doing all the same.  There is something holy about marriage - and I am not just talking about the "save it until you are married" and "two virgins marrying" type of a thing.  There is something holy about a commitment, about being the two of you - that fact said out loud and honored.  A security - even though I am fully aware that marriages break.  Despite that sad fact, there is a solidness about marriage, and as I watch these two girls struggle through decisions about babies and all, I am sad for them.  Wishing they knew the delight of a husband rubbing a round tummy thrilled about his child growing.  Going it alone is not easy.

I am enjoying working alongside my husband in his office.  Funny thing is that I thought office work was never going to be for me.  I actually like it.  Well, most of it.  I was trying to be perfect.... no mistakes and all... I know - I am incurably, optimistically a perfectionist.  I just figured it was possibly to do things well, and that if I did things well, I would make no mistakes.  That worked for a few weeks only.  Anyway, now I have made mistakes.  Done the wrong thing.  Sent the wrong people the wrong things.  I'm learning that it is ok, and that I can not fix everything or do everything right away the right way.  Things happen, and I can refuse to feel the need to "fix" everything and take on everyone else's problems.  I try my best.  I learn.  I go on.  Sometimes there are glitches in systems.  Life happens.

This is a totally random post.  I'm tired, but awake enough to miss talking with people.  I feel as if that is the one thing I have really lost in the last year or so - relationships that I had built up, people I had counted on.  Why I have lost them is likely a variety of reasons... communication is a two way street that if only traveled one way tends to dry up.  Like this blog.... well, if I don't write, even if people try to read, there is no communication.  I am not sure what I will do with various relationships.  Some I will keep.  Some I will grow on from.  It is the way life is as much as I try to hang on.  Sometimes I think relationships are like trying to hang on to a handful of marbles.  You can only hold so many at one time before they start rolling out between the cracks.  So you either let that happen naturally or you spread them out in the dust and sort them into ones you keep and ones you risk.  Did you ever play marbles in the dust?  Shooting them into a ring, aware that you risk any you send in there, but knowing you could just win that other one, too?  I think I ended up trying to hold too many marbles, and I can't.  I've shot all mine into the ring now, and we will see which ones come back to me, and which ones I have lost.  I've never lost all my marbles, not yet, and you always win others.  Each one different, unique, with a design and beauty all their own.

But I am reasonably happy.  Very busy.  Sore.  Sad.  I think sadness would be an overwhelming emotion right now - not the sadness of the last year, that sort of fuzzy sadness of post-stress.  Just a quiet sadness, likely a result of tiredness and mild loneliness.  I lost a friend.  She moved.  Still close enough to visit, but not here daily.  With that, another friend is not around as much.  My core group of women I would have coffee and talk with is gone.  There are other women, and I am building relationships, but there is sadness in time passing and people moving on. 

Yet I am strangely ok in it all.  Happy, content despite it.  I think I learned early that people move on and that you can not count on people or relationships to stay static.  You mourn and you keep going.  And when you are sad, you tell yourself, "one day, heaven".  There we will all be together with all the time in the world.  No loss is ever permanent when we are believers.  One day, heaven.  Heaven is a place where there will be no more fractured relationships.

More random thoughts.  The person in our team who I struggle with the most is arriving soon for a visit.  I am strangely nonchalant about it this time, even thinking that if he needs to stay with us it would be ok.  I think I have grown taller.  Remember those big frightening things you saw when you were little?  But then they were small when you grew?  I've grown taller.  I've also lived a summer with a Asperger's kid, and as I look at this team leader now, after that experience of having this child, I see with different eyes.  I feel pity.  Pity for him and pity for those who have to live and work with him.  Pity because there is no fixing it.

I have learned ways of coping and thinking that I think are helping me.  Maybe part of that is realizing that I do not need to find value in his eyes.  I've always been good at whatever I've set my mind to do.  Pleased others and excelled at things.  People over me were always happy with me - except my parents when I was a child.  But teachers, bosses, leaders... I've always done well.  Even today, I enjoy doing well and being valued on a team.  But when you have a leader who has perhaps a different way of seeing the world... one skewed by his own oddities that perhaps he can not fix ever.... it may be impossible to be valued by him.  And you know what?  That is ok.  Like the mistakes I made in my new office job, it's ok.  I can't do everything right.  When he does not see the good I do, perhaps it is not because my good is not good enough, but because he has his own weaknesses.  Perhaps he is incapable of seeing as normal people do.  When he overlooks normal politeness and rudely ignores me or when he picks up absolutely no emotion or even worse, criticizes emotion that should be treated sensitively, perhaps it is not because he is rude and cruel.  Perhaps he just can not pick up on emotions nor figure out how to respond.  I am taller.  I do not need value from him.

I still need value from people.  Some people will say we need to grow to where we don't, but I think it is a good aim, but not a real possibility.  We need value from people.  Just that we need to learn to look for it in people that know how to give it.  I do better with some words of affirmation.  I also know about ten people who I can count on to give them to me.  So that is where I should go when I am empty.  Not to people who will not even see my need for it.  Those type will hurt - likely totally unwillingly and unaware.

My kids are growing.  That makes me alternatively extremely proud and deeply sad.  The babies are gone.  The sticky fingers are gone.  So are the toddler toys and cute outfits.  Here are overgrown teens with long legs with hair on them who stink non-stop despite frequent showers and liberal reminders to use deodorant.  Bundles of energy who at one minute are wise and mature and at another are exploding with emotions like a two year old.  You know what is funny?  I've got teens, but I've got  bad case of the "I wish I could have another" syndrome and miss being pregnant, newborns, and all that.  I loved being a young mom.  I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.  Being a mom of teens is good, too.  Different, but good.

Life changes.  Relationships change.  Sometimes things hurt.  Sometimes you get injured.  Sometimes you make mistakes.  The only thing impossible to stop is the incessant ticking of time... that relentless moving on.  So often I would have frozen time here or there when something is "perfect", but I can not.  Time goes on, and with it comes goodbyes, changes, and growth.

One day, heaven.  In the meantime, let's enjoy with grace what we have today.  It doesn't always last, but it is good.  Even stinky teen boys with hairy legs are good.  Even when they are fighting me for independence.  I smile later, glad that they are growing and wanting independence... hoping they let us guide them until they are ready for it. 

A Wrong Chord at a Christmas Party

I went to our church's women's study group's Christmas party today.  (Yes, I survived a group!)  I've not been to the study that much simply because my life has been too busy, but it was nice to go today.  We had our study and then a fancy dinner.  It was stunning, gorgeous, perfect food... I made an idea I got off Carrie's blog links - Santa Hat Brownies.  They're simple, but really cute.

What was wrong?  It was a little thing, a wrong note.  And it quietly disturbed me all afternoon.  I may be treading on thin ice here as I know I know people who are in the same boat, and I do not know how they deal with the situation, and I honestly know that I would be totally shaken and struggle to deal with it, too.  But I am either bold or stupid and have some questions... honest questions, wanting to learn with others.... we can ignore it, but it is not going away, so why don't we start talking about it?

A woman was sharing about her daughter who is a lesbian and has been for fifteen years.  This daughter had been to Bible school and all and then left it all and joined the lesbian lifestyle.  The lady shared that because of her daughter's choices, they can not support her lifestyle, so they simply do not see their daughter often.  Then she mentioned that last week, they were in the city (about an hour from us) and they phoned her daughter to meet them in a restaurant since they hadn't seen her in two years.  She arrived with an 18mo. old baby that her partner had given birth to which had both their names.

That was about all to her story.  It was just an illustration of someone they thought was a believer whose lifestyle now proves they never were.

But it disturbed me.  I sat there mulling over what she told me and I was quietly disturbed.

First let me CLEARLY state that I have an immense amount of sympathy for this lady and am heartbroken over what she must face as she grapples with this situation.  It is not easy.  There is no easy way about it.  It is awful.  Embarrassing.  Crushing disappointment of her expected dream of her daughter.  The awfulness of a child turning their back on God.  The embarrassment to say, "my child is lesbian".  I grieve for her.

But I questioned her response.  "I can not support her lifestyle, so we don't have them here and we don't see her often."  She inferred that even when they do see her daughter, they meet elsewhere and refuse to see the daughter's partner.  It was that which bothered me.  I was used to it.  I grew up in the same churches and would have been counseled to make a similar choice.  But now I question that.

Did God turn His back on us when we were sinners?  How is she to learn about God's character if we reject her?  I wonder about the effect of welcoming her daughter - as she is... partner and all - into their home.  Telling her loudly with actions that nothing she can do will change her love for her daughter.  She will break her heart, yes, but she can not stop her love.  Of letting her house be a place that is unashamedly Christian, unquestionably against the lifestyle, but whole-heartedly loving the people.  What if we showed the love God had for us?  What if her daughter and her partner and their baby felt comfortable to come and bake cookies with their mom and the little one grew up calling her "grandma" and loving to be at her house?  No one says that I have to agree with the choices of everyone I love, do they?

Can we not as Christians deeply love even people who have chosen to walk in this awful lifestyle?  Can we not hold our arms and our homes out to them too?  Isn't there a difference between accepting a lifestyle and accepting a person?  Do we best draw people to Christ by rejecting them or by love?

What do you think?  Have you had any experience in this?  I admit I have none, so I am talking without walking.  I have only a brother who has made awful choices in his life.  We battled with some of these questions with him, and in the end chose to continue to be in his life for many years.  The complication with him was that he was not safe around children, and we also had to make the decision that our children are our first priority and were worth a "zero-risk-factor", so we limited our connections with my brother to clearly defined situations.  I don't know that this is the same situation.  Perhaps if there were young children in the house and the adult child was pushy or crude - perhaps that would be different.  But this family had no young children.  No one was at risk from choosing to love.  

I'm still questioning much of how I was taught Christianity, and I am questioning this choice.  To be honest, I've never heard a class taught or a sermon preached on "How to Relate to Your Homosexual Child".  Perhaps we need one.  Maybe we need to start talking about it.  We can stick our heads in the sand and focus all our energy on reaching the lost.... but can we afford to reject the lost in our own families?