A Nice Surprise

As I sit in my favorite spot early on this Sunday morning, I am smiling. It's quiet in the house....the dogs have been let outside, and I'm the only one awake. Both girls are sleeping...yes, BOTH girls.

Linds was at the football game Friday night with some friends, and I was talking on the phone to Casie, my oldest. We were talking about her plans for the night, and she had told me she was planning on just "chilling" at home. We had a nice long talk, and ended our conversation in the usual way "Love you - talk with you soon". Imagine my surprise when she walked through our front door! I thought "chilling at home" meant heading back to her apartment where she lives 2 hours away. My mouth hit the floor and she was grinning widely that she had managed to pull off a surprise over us.

She told me that she came home because she felt I had been through a rough week, and she just wanted to be here. My daughter wanting to encourage and uplift me, the mother. It was one of those moments when you realize that your child has grown into an adult, and a caring adult at that.

I wasn't exactly aware that I had communicated with her that it had been a rough week, but somehow, she read that between the words in our many conversations we have during the course of a week, and she just wanted to come home. It has been a very different kind of week for me. I think when Casie walked through the door Friday night, I realized that we were going to be okay as a family....better than okay, we are going to be good.

One of my greatest fears and worries, is how my daughters are going to fare with our family changing. It's a very valid concern.....the impact that divorce has on children, whether they are minor or adult, is significant to say the least. I hate that my girls are going through this. But when she came home Friday night, simply wanting to support her mother and spend time with her sister, I realized that I am blessed. You see, Casie gets it. I want our family to be one of love, encouragement, acceptance, a mixture of tenderness and grit, sharing with one another, and supporting one another. We can get on one another's nerves, we can argue, we can be selfish at times....we are human and extremely normal. But more than that....we love, accept, support and encourage one another.

Casie and I jumped in my car and we drove to the church where the teenagers were hanging out at the 5th Quarter Club after the football game. I called Linds on her cell and asked her to come out to the car. She wanted to know why of course, and I just said I was coming by to say "hi". Pretty lame in retrospect, but I didn't know what else to say. I could hear her say "okay?" in a confused tone. She and a friend walked out to the car, saw Casie in the passenger seat and the look on her face was priceless when she saw her big sis. She begged Casie to come inside and say hi to her friends. Although tired from a day of class, work, and driving, Casie obliged. I stayed in the car so the sisters could have their moment. And I smiled.....we are good.

We haven't done anything special this weekend. We kept the secret that she was home from their dad until Saturday. He thought Linds was coming over to watch the Razorback game with on Saturday, and opened the door to find them both there. I know his face was just as thrilled and surprised as mine was. It's still hard getting used to sharing their time individually, instead of sharing time as a traditional family....it's not the way it supposed to be. But, it's the way it is for us, and we are coping better each time. While they were gone, I watched the game myself and stayed busy in the kitchen cooking. I baked cookies and made a pot of chicken and dumplings - a meal my girls love. Casie has studied this weekend, Linds and I had to go to a softball event for a little while, and then we just rented a chick flick. As I said, we haven't done anything special. But as I've aged, I learn more and more that it's not "doing" of special things you cherish....it's just the regular ordinary times of being together.

Mudpie Memories

Today is Terri's birthday. Terri is my younger sister and I am blessed. There is 3 1/2 years difference between us. When we were little, some of my fondest memories include barefeet, making of mudpies, dress up, dolls and Barbies.

We shared a room for years, until the day came when we could move to a bigger house and my preteen, hormonal, diary writing self couldn't wait to get away from her. I thought my own room was all I needed to finally have peace and privacy. Imagine my horror when she and another friend found my diary, and read it into a tape recorder, pushed "play" right outside my bedroom door and then took off running. I was sitting on my bed, probably listening to Elton John records, when all of a sudden, I heard this very dramatic reading (Oscar worthy, I tell you....Meryl Streep herself would have been moved) of MY VERY OWN WORDS!!!! I remember bolting from the bed throwing the door open hoping to knock down the perps, only to find a small black tape recorder playing from the hallway.

We laugh over that story now....she will probably say it was justice for the mudpies I tried to get her to eat when we were younger.

We've been so fortunate to end up in Arkansas together, since our parents and our brother are still in the Dallas area. We're not in the same town, but at least we're not too far. We've been able to be there for one another during many of the important times in life, and we've been blessed enough to be able to just visit one another for the sake of just being together.

She is an accomplished woman, a wonderful wife and mother, and a gem of a sister.

Happy Birthday Terri!

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Yesterday one of my dearest friends was given some news that is pretty shattering. I won't go into details, as she is still processing it all herself. Let's just say that when a friend is hurting, you want to be there to help. If you can't help, you just want to be there.

A couple of hours after her news, "our gang" descended upon her home. We all just wanted to love her, to listen, to talk, to shed a tear, to laugh, and to just be with her. As I looked around the table at us sitting there in her kitchen, I thought of our threads of friendship...the threads that bind us. We've known each other for years, some of us have a longer history with one another. We've gone through all sorts of hardships as well as joys together. You could say that we've been through "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" with one another. As I looked at our group of friends, I thought about the comfort and safety that comes from knowing each other well enough to not let the bad or the ugly keep us from lifting one another up....and that's what makes it good.

Life isn't easy. Life throws us curveballs. Life gets messy. But what a joy it is when you have a group of friends who love you through it all.

Here's to my friend who has been thrown a curveball.....we're all here with you....and we wouldn't be anywhere else.

Twice in One Day???

I don't think I've ever posted twice in one day before, but as I sit in my favorite chair tonight, unwinding after a very long (but good) day, I find myself wanting to write.

I took a major step in my journey tonight....I actually drove myself to a DivorceCare Recovery Group at a church in Memphis. I'm not a person who wakes up each day eager to embrace the unknown, I like the comfort of the tried and true. So to actually walk into a room in a fairly unknown place and open up was W-A-A-A-Y out of my comfort zone.

For a few weeks, I've realized that I was battling stagnancy. After having taking so many positive steps forward, I have felt like I could go no further. After alot of thinking, prayer, some much needed sleep, and talking to my closest friends, I had pretty much come to the conclusion that I had gone as far as I could with the tools I have had. I have loved the excellent Christian counseling I have been to, I have read books, done the emotional exercises, spent alot of time alone with God, and made myself take positive steps in rediscovering myself. And yet....something has been missing lately. I couldn't put my finger on it, and I'm still not sure I can. But I realized I needed to "shake it up". By "it" I mean my healing process.

Although I dearly love my very small town, one of the downsides is that everyone knows everyone else's business. I'm a pretty private person, and so I knew that a divorce recovery group in my town wouldn't be for me. I'm glad that some of our local churches are offering recovery and support groups. I think it's time the church embrace the wounded. But I knew I would be more comfortable in a group setting where the people wouldn't already know me...where I could feel free to share my soul and not worry about running into that person at the grocery store the next day. Some people would like that familiarity, for me...I knew I needed some distance and to meet some new people.

So I found out about a group that meets at a church I have visited before in Memphis. It's an awesome church, and I've been there for different events and some worship services. And although I have known this was going to be a good thing, I can't even begin to tell you the reasons I came up with for not going. They played over and over in my head all day, and the entire drive from my office to the church tonite. They played over and over as I walked up the stairs. But then, I met people...people walking in smiling sheepishly, politely offering the seat next to them to someone else. And I saw pain in their eyes. A pain I recognized. A pain I am familiar with. A pain I wish I didn't have. Although I was in a room full of hurting people, and strangers nonetheless, I immediately felt connected. I knew I was where I needed to be.

Tonight was introductions and a brief telling of our individual stories. There were about 35 people in the room, both men and women, and 35 different stories. I didn't want to talk, but I'm not sure any of us did at first. But we all took a chance and opened up "just a little". And although I can't say I enjoyed the evening, I can say that it was good.

I'm back home now, feet propped up in my chair, I've lit a couple of pumpkin spice candles, I'm listening to music and I am smiling. Smiling because I took a chance to try something new, and it was something that I needed, and even after just one night, I feel a burden has been slightly lifted. Nothing has changed, other than I'm not stagnant tonight.

Seasons

I love the changing of seasons - especially this time of year. But the title of this blog isn't referring to nature, but to the seasons we go through in life.

To borrow a phrase from a friend of mine in Virginia, I am going through a "tough season". I'm not the only one...many I know are going through a tough season in life.

Lately, I've had a hard time getting going in the mornings. This is unusual, because unlike my teenage/college years, I've grown into a morning person. I love being up before anyone else and having time to myself, and time alone with God. I also am a person who struggles with insomnia, and so I think my body is just rebelling when the alarm clock goes off. Some mornings I haven't been asleep that long.

But I made a point to wake up this morning in time to see the sunrise. I'm still waiting for that moment...in about 10 minutes it should be lovely.

As I woke up and began catching up on emails, facebook and blogs, I read my friend's post from Virginia and came across her words of "tough season". She was referring to dear friends of hers from church. She has used this phrasing often in her writings. Another friend of mine asked for prayer for her son, who needs to accomplish a difficult task. Another friend of mine is going through a tough season this week and I feel totally helpless. She isn't sure how long her season will last. A family here in town has one daughter with a terminal illness that they are taking care of, and lost their other young adult son in a car wreck this weekend. My family is in a tough season.

We go through different seasons in life....seasons of abundance, seasons of difficulty, seasons of doubt, seasons of change, seasons of pain. I will say that in my own life, most of God's work in me happens during the "tough seasons". Some seasons last longer than others, and we grow weary. I know I am. I know all of the people I mentioned above grow weary.

But just as the sun rises each morning, so does my hope and faith in the Lord. Each day is new, full of opportunities and blessings. Our seasons will usually last through many sunrises, but on this morning, I am glad that I managed to stumble out of bed, catch up with my friends, spend time in prayer and watch the beginning of a new day...a day that still finds me in a tough season, but a new day nonetheless. A day in which I am privileged to pray for my friends, and also to be lifted in prayer by these same friends. A day in which God is walking with me, as always.