Forward, March!

This week has me in a nostalgic place. Our little girl turned 18 two days ago. Can it really be that long ago that I sang her to sleep with lullabies my own mother sang to me? That she spoke her first "I yuv you" as we looked at photos together? That Mama was the center of her universe? And now I must step away from that central place in her life and nudge her to cling to another Central Figure--the One who knows everything about her life: "For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb." "My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them" (Psalm 139). Mom won't be here for her forever, but God will, and my greatest success in motherhood will be in raising a child who chooses to follow Him throughout her life. 

Yesterday was another birthday: my dad's. Or would have been. Dad died in 2001. He would have turned 100 this year! It's sad that my greatest appreciation for him has come only since his death. Dad had a rough childhood, emotionally. His father abandoned the family, leaving his mom to fend for herself and three young children. It's no surprise that that would create a sense of insecurity in a child, especially in a boy without a dad during his formative years. Dad's stepfather (whose name we bore) was a kind man, but the seeds of insecurity had already been sown, and Dad carried those into his adult life. He found in military service a place in which he had purpose and standing. He ran our home as if Provost Marshal was a job he was born with, rather than assigned during his Army career. After he retired as Lt. Colonel in 1960, his favorite topic of conversation seemed to be his military days.

My dad and I butted heads a lot during my teen years. For whatever reason, I never felt his love or approval, maybe because he had difficulty expressing emotions verbally. But looking back, I remember things he did for me that were his way of showing love: The little wooden record box and hand-tooled leather purse he made for me. The learning games he would play with me. (Good grades were the one area in which I felt his approval.) His encouragement (I saw it as pushiness) of my writing. His awkward compassionate outreach to me when I had my 17-year-old heart broken by a fickle boyfriend. His phone calls saying "It's time for an oil change"--I never had to worry about my car because he was always my mechanic. How blind of me not to see that these were gestures of love! I wish I had him back to express how much I appreciate him now. He is a part of whom I have become, the good and the bad. I love my dad.

" . . . Forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:13-14).

I Still Do

1991: I do. 2014: I still do. Next weekend Jerry and I will celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary. There is such a sweetness that comes with a long marriage. Just this week my husband sent me a spontaneous text: "OMG do I ever love you." I wish more people would give marriage a long-term chance. Too many decide after a few road bumps and dips that it's not worth it. If they could only wait to get past all that! "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning" (Psalm 30:5b).

The parents of my husband's former business partner were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary when someone asked them their recipe for a long-term marriage. The wife's response has stuck with me: "DON'T LEAVE." How many of us in our marriages have thought how much easier life could be without this annoying or difficult person alongside? Be honest, now. Haven't we all been there? But just like those fleeting moments of depression that we sometimes experience over life's challenges, the dark clouds always pass and the sun bursts into brightness again and then we are so happy that we didn't allow those few moments (or days, or years) of difficulty to define the rest of our lives.

I am hardcore about hanging in there with marriage. You might call me a hang-in-there-with-marriage fanatic! I've stopped going to weddings in which I'm forced to feign happiness for a couple who have clearly made a bad choice of partner. In such instances, people do get upset with me for declining attendance, but how do you rejoice with a couple when you see storm clouds brewing before the first step down the aisle has even been taken? That said . . . once the "I-do's" have been uttered, I am a huge cheerleader for that marriage to stay intact. Those who write me out of their lives for missing their weddings don't usually know of my after-the-fact support, but I've got their backs in prayer from the moment they become man and wife. I believe that God can work out any difficult situation if we will just hang in there.

Yesterday I attended a one-day ladies' retreat at a local church. Each of us ladies was given a small rolled-up paper containing a Bible verse that we were to meditate upon during our quiet time. Mine was 2 Corinthians 12:9: " 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

If we allow Christ to pick us up in those moments of despair in our marriages, we can keep moving ahead, and the later years of sweetness are so worth it!

Empty Nest--Never!

Eleven more days and life will be very different. My little girl, the only child of my loins, is going off to college. Wasn't it just a night or two ago that I sat rocking her to sleep in my arms? Wait, sweetie! It's not time yet! There is so much more I want to teach you! I forgot to impress this upon you . . . and this . . . and this . . . .

And I hear God whisper: Stop. Now it's time for Me to take over where you've left off. You've done your best. I will fill in the gaps. Take a breath. You'll make it through. Remember when you reached 45 years old, two miscarriages behind you, and no baby in sight? You trusted Me through the loss of two who had barely begun to take hold in the womb, with My constant reminder that eons of women had brought children into this world, just by a touch of My hand. You believed with all your heart that if I chose to give you your own, it would certainly come to pass. You rested in that. Now carry that same trust into this new phase of life. I'm faithful!

So I slow my pounding heart and I wait to see the Creator of all, the One who brought my precious daughter into existence, begin to make wonderful things of her life.