Hi there! With summer now in full force, it's hard to believe that just a couple months ago, the kids were still having snow days at school. But now, we are in my favorite portion of the year, the second half. I've always loved June to December. Summer and autumn are my favorite seasons, and November and December bring my birthday, Thanksgiving, and the Christmas season. I'm taking classes over the summer, so no school break for me since they began right after spring term ended and run until the fall term begins. My first break will be between the two subterms of fall semester. I will get a week off in mid October. Right now, I'm taking a class in counseling techniques (which I love) and statistics (which I most definitely do NOT!!!!) Only taking stats because it's required. I will refrain from any further comments on it because when I think about stats, the words that come to mind aren't ones that should be coming out of the mouth (or keyboard) of a Jesus-following, church going, nice mama, such as myself. Besides, I don't want to shock my children!
I came across a quote that really stirred me, so I wanted to share it. But first a little backstory. Ordinarily, I'm not super into inspirational quotes. There's nothing wrong with most of them, per se. It's just that some are so overused, they've become cliche. And I have to admit, that I find the parodies of some of them absolutely hilarious. But this one just had such a ring of truth to it and really encouraged me.
"Faith is believing BEFORE what will only make sense AFTER."
I find this perspective so helpful when I see the dissonance between a situation in the present and the truth of God's Word. I know that this causes many to doubt and some to abandon their faith, and those who never believed in the first place to mock either openly or in the smug silence of self-assured superiority.
But I find this quote so encouraging. Maybe it's because I've lived long enough to have seen this demonstrated. I've had experiences where the temporal reality of what I could see, hear, or feel was in complete contrast to God's promises of blessing, joy, goodness, provision, justice, or peace. Times when believing in the truth of God's goodness or His care for me went against every shred of earthly evidence. Where reliance upon human logic alone would scream, "Impossible!" and consider faith an outmoded perspective at best or a dangerous delusion at worst. And yes, during these times, I have wobbled and wavered, struggling to bring synthesis between belief and immediate experience. My faith hasn't always been strong in the midst of pain, suffering, or injustice because, of course, we want everything to make sense. After all, how can anyone really trust in God if He's chaotic? And in the middle of our experiences, life can seem void of coherence as we desperately seek to keep afloat when adversity floods our path. And even when we look to God, it's still hard. Though relief can come, it never comes soon enough to suit us. At least, that's been my experience.
Still, even after some of the flood waters have receded, even when experiencing God's presence and comfort, the struggle or adversity or situation doesn't often make sense. But I don't believe the problem is with God. Nor do I see this as showing that He isn't real or doesn't care. It simply comes down to a matter of viewpoint or perspective. If I can only see one piece of a 5000 piece jigsaw, it makes no sense whatsoever. If someone says, "This piece has a necessary place in the completion of this beautiful picture of a treasure filled palace," I believe them despite my severely limited perspective. Even the most cynical skeptic does. And when there are ten or twenty pieces that have been put together, it still might not make sense. It's just a shape or a line or curve.
During the process of putting together the puzzle (not that I speak from experience because I HATE jigsaw puzzles --- I find them way too tedious to get any enjoyment from working on them), some things may become clearer as we move further along. Other times, we might think we know what something looks like, but as time passes, we find out it's different from how we first perceived it. Finally, there are some elements that will only make sense after the entire puzzle has been assembled, things that will require us to remain in the "before" portion of faith for our entire lives. We will only be able to see how they make sense after we have left this earth.
Though I admit I don't like not knowing the details, I do find encouragement to stand firm in faith, despite living in the here and now of BEFORE. I'm able to do this by remembering that my life is in the hands of an all powerful, all loving, all knowing God, who calls me His child, and who will also lead me on the path to AFTER after beautiful AFTER!
"For we live by faith, not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7
Friday, June 28, 2019
Thursday, May 2, 2019
My Deep, Dark, Deplorable Secret
How's that for an attention grabber? Are you curious? Anyone who knows me is probably shocked that I even have one because #1 I'm pretty much a typical church girl kind of goody two shoes and #2 I'm very transparent and real with people. In fact, although there are things I've done that were stupid, sinful, and/or not entirely legal (Don't judge, I was young once and besides there were no felonies involved) and maybe even unkind or less than honest, none of them are really secrets. Everyone may not know everything, but I'm reasonably sure that a few people know several things. But there is one thing that I think only Jim knows (and I doubt he even remembers). It's not really a secret in the sense that I've purposefully kept it hidden. It just isn't the sort of topic that tends to come up. So.... are you ready? Can you handle it? The DEEP, DARK, DEPLORABLE secret is....
I once got a D on my quarter report card!!!! OK for those who don't know me, you most likely are thinking, "That's it! Seriously? What's so secretive about THAT?" And for those faithful readers who do know me, you know that would be a very big deal. So, let me just say that for the most part, I'm a pretty easy going, go with the flow, it doesn't have to be perfect kind of person. My house is usually messy; I adjust pretty easily to changes in plans or unexpected circumstances (unless, of course, that means that I will be missing out on some kind of treat😞); I generally handle interruptions well (sometimes a little TOO well in that they can get me completely off track, which is kind of one of the central issues for ADHDers). Yep, I'm quite flexible. Except in one area. Grades. That's the place where I have always excelled (though not to the degree of my potential, which also is an ADHD thing). But I've always had mostly A's in any subject where I put forth even a fair amount of effort and B's and the very infrequent C in those where I didn't. Even now, I'm trying not to get too freaked out about the possibility that I might get a B in one of my classes this term.
Guess what class it was? Those who don't know me very well will think, "You have got to be kidding. How could anyone get a D in that?????" And those who do know me better will think, "Yep. Totally can see that." It was gym. I know, it's a no brainer class, right? Well, yeah, but the brainy classes aren't usually my problem. Except for sometimes math. Mostly because I hate it, so it's hard to make myself concentrate, and math definitely requires concentration to learn. You can't just fake your way through it. Either you know it, or you don't. There's no middle ground. But in 8th grade gym class your grade was composed of 2 things, mostly participation and to a slight degree skill. OK in case anyone doesn't know this, I hate sports. Don't like to watch them and really really absolutely don't think it's fun to play them. There are very few things I'd rather not do than sports. Also, and this may be partly why I dislike sports, I am the most uncoordinated, nonathletic person in the world. Maybe in the universe. Together this makes me really bad at sports and all the skills they test you on in gym. I was that kid in school. You know, the one who had the top score in English class and the lowest in gym. When we picked teams, I was the first chosen for spelling bee and the last chosen for kickball. My other problem was that I generally HATED junior high (the term for middle school way back in the Dark Ages of the 1970s), so I often just stayed home from school. My mom didn't really care. And you can't really get participation points if you don't show up. So that's how I, the eternal honor student, ended up with my one and only D, which was only on the quarter report card. I did extra credit the following quarter by helping with some after school sports set up and other tasks so that I got a B for the second quarter, which averaged with my D, gave me a C for my semester grade. Normally, that would have been devastating, but it was gym, which back in those days didn't even count in your GPA.
So there you have my scandalous story. I know it's pretty boring as far as deep, dark secrets go. I actually would feel sorry if for some reason some government agent got stuck having to spy on me. Poor guy! He might end up being the first person to actually die of boredom. I hope you aren't too disappointed it wasn't anything juicy or exciting. But, then again, if I did have such a secret, do you think I'd actually share it? Maybe I would just tell you a story about a much more innocuous one instead. 😁
I once got a D on my quarter report card!!!! OK for those who don't know me, you most likely are thinking, "That's it! Seriously? What's so secretive about THAT?" And for those faithful readers who do know me, you know that would be a very big deal. So, let me just say that for the most part, I'm a pretty easy going, go with the flow, it doesn't have to be perfect kind of person. My house is usually messy; I adjust pretty easily to changes in plans or unexpected circumstances (unless, of course, that means that I will be missing out on some kind of treat😞); I generally handle interruptions well (sometimes a little TOO well in that they can get me completely off track, which is kind of one of the central issues for ADHDers). Yep, I'm quite flexible. Except in one area. Grades. That's the place where I have always excelled (though not to the degree of my potential, which also is an ADHD thing). But I've always had mostly A's in any subject where I put forth even a fair amount of effort and B's and the very infrequent C in those where I didn't. Even now, I'm trying not to get too freaked out about the possibility that I might get a B in one of my classes this term.
Guess what class it was? Those who don't know me very well will think, "You have got to be kidding. How could anyone get a D in that?????" And those who do know me better will think, "Yep. Totally can see that." It was gym. I know, it's a no brainer class, right? Well, yeah, but the brainy classes aren't usually my problem. Except for sometimes math. Mostly because I hate it, so it's hard to make myself concentrate, and math definitely requires concentration to learn. You can't just fake your way through it. Either you know it, or you don't. There's no middle ground. But in 8th grade gym class your grade was composed of 2 things, mostly participation and to a slight degree skill. OK in case anyone doesn't know this, I hate sports. Don't like to watch them and really really absolutely don't think it's fun to play them. There are very few things I'd rather not do than sports. Also, and this may be partly why I dislike sports, I am the most uncoordinated, nonathletic person in the world. Maybe in the universe. Together this makes me really bad at sports and all the skills they test you on in gym. I was that kid in school. You know, the one who had the top score in English class and the lowest in gym. When we picked teams, I was the first chosen for spelling bee and the last chosen for kickball. My other problem was that I generally HATED junior high (the term for middle school way back in the Dark Ages of the 1970s), so I often just stayed home from school. My mom didn't really care. And you can't really get participation points if you don't show up. So that's how I, the eternal honor student, ended up with my one and only D, which was only on the quarter report card. I did extra credit the following quarter by helping with some after school sports set up and other tasks so that I got a B for the second quarter, which averaged with my D, gave me a C for my semester grade. Normally, that would have been devastating, but it was gym, which back in those days didn't even count in your GPA.
So there you have my scandalous story. I know it's pretty boring as far as deep, dark secrets go. I actually would feel sorry if for some reason some government agent got stuck having to spy on me. Poor guy! He might end up being the first person to actually die of boredom. I hope you aren't too disappointed it wasn't anything juicy or exciting. But, then again, if I did have such a secret, do you think I'd actually share it? Maybe I would just tell you a story about a much more innocuous one instead. 😁
Wednesday, March 13, 2019
Good-bye, Mom
Hi Everyone! I can't believe it's been almost 3 months since my last post. It's hard to know where to even start. Six weeks ago my mom died unexpectedly. It's been a somewhat surreal experience because it doesn't really feel like she's gone. There's so many things I could say. Our relationship was complicated because she had Borderline Personality Disorder, but thankfully, we were in a reasonably good place when she died. My 19 year old daughter, Kelley, is taking this the hardest because out of all my kids, she was the closest to my mom.
I guess I'm grieving, but it doesn't feel like I expected. I've read about the stages of grief and the order they're supposed to occur, but that just hasn't been my experience. I cried a lot the first day and off and on over that week. But I'm also happy for her. I know where she is, and now, she's finally free from physical and emotional pain and fears. She struggled with so many things: addictions, relationships, self-worth, multiple phobias and anxiety as well as constant pain. I'm pretty sure she also had ADHD, so she also struggled with organization and cleanliness, was often frustrated and impatient with herself and others, and started multiple projects that never got finished. And that was all before the dementia began.
I'm happy for her not having to suffer through progressively worsening dementia or lingering on the edge of death for days or weeks. She went peacefully in her sleep. No pain. No struggle according to the nurse. I fully believe that's true because when I saw her, she honestly just looked like she was sleeping. Her face was completely relaxed. I do wish we could have been with her when she went, but Jim and I did spend time with her the day before she died.
I'm not devastated or in despair, most likely because she really wasn't a part of my daily life. She wasn't one of those moms that you seek advice or wisdom from. She has always been very child like. I was more the parent figure from as far back as I can remember, but it doesn't feel like losing a child either. I can't even imagine the depth of sorrow that would be, and I pray I never will know. Honestly, often I resented her for not being a typical mom because the pain of never having that healthy "mothering" has left deep soul wounds that have become part of my inner tapestry. But she couldn't be what she didn't know. How can anyone be expected to read a book when they don't know the alphabet or even have a clue that those letters symbolize sound?
Surprisingly, I mostly just feel a kind of blah affect. I'm not super sad just sometimes find myself experiencing a slight emptiness, like a small hole. I still can enjoy things. I function. I don't constantly think about my mom, but it's like something is just slightly askew, and I have no idea if this is normal. Not that it really matters, but sometimes I wonder.
I do find that I'm much more sensitive these days to even the slightest hint of criticism, and I've had a lot of trouble sleeping. I feel less connected to people. I'm off kilter with my prior patterns. I think I gained weight over those first couple of weeks, but now I've dropped it (which is good) but only because I've skipped several meals over this past week, and when I do eat, it's not usually anything healthy.
But it's not all because of my mom, although indirectly it is. There was so much to do after she died, and I have no siblings, so it was all on me to make the decisions and most of the arrangements, though family and friends did help with some details. Because of this, I got behind in my classes, which move at such an intense pace even when I'm able to work on them as planned. So now, I have a very limited time to catch up. In order to be able to do that, I've stopped all my outside activities and most of my inside ones too (no cooking, no cleaning, no grocery shopping, etc.) so I can use the time to work. I really should be working right now, but sometimes I just have to take a break for a little bit and do something different. There comes a point when you are studying hour after hour, day after day, that you begin to burn out and start getting diminishing returns for all your effort. So my abrupt change of schedule could also be causing my weird feelings and disrupted sleep. Or maybe it's a combo. Or just age. This is all new to me. Losing my mom. Being in grad school. Being this age.
When my mom was younger, she was a dancer. She took ballet lessons for several years. I'm sure people who only knew her as an older, morbidly obese, wheelchair bound woman would be quite surprised at the graceful amateur ballerina she was as a teenager. Her love of ballet as an art continued even through her final days. When I think of her leaving this earth and rising to heaven, there's a line from a song that goes, "With your final heartbeat, kiss the world good-bye. Then go to peace and life on glory's side. Fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, and live." I know that's what she did on that cold winter Monday morning in February. I'm also fairly certain that not too much longer after arriving in the presence of the Lord, she must have danced in the most beautiful impromptu pas seul (solo dance), her ballerina soul finally able to freely leap in completely unhindered joy. That image makes me smile through the tears, for I know that someday I'll be there to watch her too, even though for now, I've had to say, "Good-bye, Mom."
Sue Nan Burch Wyckoff (July 30, 1943 - February 4, 2019)
I guess I'm grieving, but it doesn't feel like I expected. I've read about the stages of grief and the order they're supposed to occur, but that just hasn't been my experience. I cried a lot the first day and off and on over that week. But I'm also happy for her. I know where she is, and now, she's finally free from physical and emotional pain and fears. She struggled with so many things: addictions, relationships, self-worth, multiple phobias and anxiety as well as constant pain. I'm pretty sure she also had ADHD, so she also struggled with organization and cleanliness, was often frustrated and impatient with herself and others, and started multiple projects that never got finished. And that was all before the dementia began.
I'm happy for her not having to suffer through progressively worsening dementia or lingering on the edge of death for days or weeks. She went peacefully in her sleep. No pain. No struggle according to the nurse. I fully believe that's true because when I saw her, she honestly just looked like she was sleeping. Her face was completely relaxed. I do wish we could have been with her when she went, but Jim and I did spend time with her the day before she died.
I'm not devastated or in despair, most likely because she really wasn't a part of my daily life. She wasn't one of those moms that you seek advice or wisdom from. She has always been very child like. I was more the parent figure from as far back as I can remember, but it doesn't feel like losing a child either. I can't even imagine the depth of sorrow that would be, and I pray I never will know. Honestly, often I resented her for not being a typical mom because the pain of never having that healthy "mothering" has left deep soul wounds that have become part of my inner tapestry. But she couldn't be what she didn't know. How can anyone be expected to read a book when they don't know the alphabet or even have a clue that those letters symbolize sound?
Surprisingly, I mostly just feel a kind of blah affect. I'm not super sad just sometimes find myself experiencing a slight emptiness, like a small hole. I still can enjoy things. I function. I don't constantly think about my mom, but it's like something is just slightly askew, and I have no idea if this is normal. Not that it really matters, but sometimes I wonder.
I do find that I'm much more sensitive these days to even the slightest hint of criticism, and I've had a lot of trouble sleeping. I feel less connected to people. I'm off kilter with my prior patterns. I think I gained weight over those first couple of weeks, but now I've dropped it (which is good) but only because I've skipped several meals over this past week, and when I do eat, it's not usually anything healthy.
But it's not all because of my mom, although indirectly it is. There was so much to do after she died, and I have no siblings, so it was all on me to make the decisions and most of the arrangements, though family and friends did help with some details. Because of this, I got behind in my classes, which move at such an intense pace even when I'm able to work on them as planned. So now, I have a very limited time to catch up. In order to be able to do that, I've stopped all my outside activities and most of my inside ones too (no cooking, no cleaning, no grocery shopping, etc.) so I can use the time to work. I really should be working right now, but sometimes I just have to take a break for a little bit and do something different. There comes a point when you are studying hour after hour, day after day, that you begin to burn out and start getting diminishing returns for all your effort. So my abrupt change of schedule could also be causing my weird feelings and disrupted sleep. Or maybe it's a combo. Or just age. This is all new to me. Losing my mom. Being in grad school. Being this age.
When my mom was younger, she was a dancer. She took ballet lessons for several years. I'm sure people who only knew her as an older, morbidly obese, wheelchair bound woman would be quite surprised at the graceful amateur ballerina she was as a teenager. Her love of ballet as an art continued even through her final days. When I think of her leaving this earth and rising to heaven, there's a line from a song that goes, "With your final heartbeat, kiss the world good-bye. Then go to peace and life on glory's side. Fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, and live." I know that's what she did on that cold winter Monday morning in February. I'm also fairly certain that not too much longer after arriving in the presence of the Lord, she must have danced in the most beautiful impromptu pas seul (solo dance), her ballerina soul finally able to freely leap in completely unhindered joy. That image makes me smile through the tears, for I know that someday I'll be there to watch her too, even though for now, I've had to say, "Good-bye, Mom."
Sue Nan Burch Wyckoff (July 30, 1943 - February 4, 2019)
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