Wednesday, May 06, 2015
Thursday, November 15, 2012
One year and two days ago, my father passed away. He struggled with oral cancer for a comparatively short period of time. The end was not easy, but it was faster than it could have been. I feel blessed to have been with him along with all of his children. Many past hurts were laid to rest before his passing – another blessing. His funeral was in the same funeral home, the reception afterward in the same church that holds Caleb’s graveyard.
It occurred to me today that I was at the midpoint, equidistant from both dates. Perhaps I am also at a point equidistant from the innocence of Caleb and the brokenness of innocence-lost my father had lived to attain. As I stand on this point in time, I strive to see I am not on a line at all, but a circle. What appear (on my flat-map perspective of life) to be endpoints join together on the opposite side of the globe, the side we call eternity.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
somehow, I must learn to fill it again. Line by line, slowly if need be...
Saturday, March 19, 2011
I looked back at some archives this week and couldn’t believe that my most prolific posting was in 2006 and 2007. I can’t even believe I have had a blog for that long, let alone that is has been mostly idle for the past several years.
In the same way, life around these parts is passing. My second born turned eighteen yesterday, and he is about to graduate from high school. It doesn’t seem that long ago that we first dropped him off at the doors. Granted, it was only four years since he was homeschooled through eighth grade, but still…..
One would think that this passage of time would have spawned the basis for many blog posts, but the truth is, I have had varying versions of the same post running through my head the entire time. It’s all about motivation – or lack thereof.
When I was younger, most specifically in my teens and twenties, I took great pride in certain things. As a teenager, I was fond of uttering the self-truth that I was extraordinarily proud of my inferiority complex, “I feel more inferior than you feel, and I’ll prove it!” But that was not the extent of my pride. Silent pride covered my intelligence, my thinness without exercise, my ability to look into someone’s eyes and know their pain on a personal level. It has taken me this many years to realize how misdirected my pride actually is. You see, I seem only to revel in those accomplishments I had nothing to say about. Through my pride in them, I am taking credit for God’s work – those natural abilities borne into my genes. I don’t like working for anything.
I don’t know whether laziness or fear has been the prime motivator, but the fact remains. I don’t like doing anything that doesn’t come easily to me. Speaking to people on a deep level when I am vulnerable myself – when I have hidden weakness and don’t want to admit it, making phone calls to just about anyone (but doctors and businesses are the most difficult), writing when the words don’t just flow from my fingertips: these are things I avoid like the plague. And now that my earlier prides don’t come so naturally, well, I avoid thinking about them too.
S, the second born, has a quality he leeched directly from his mother. Whenever trying something new, he watches. To the outside observer, he would appear not to be interested at all, but he is watching with intensity. Then, off in his own corner of the world, he practices. He is not willing to try anything in front of others if he is not absolutely sure he can do it. Only a small fraction of the things observed ever make it to the stage of public opinion. As an onlooker, I see the pity in this. So many talents don’t see the light of day because they are rough, raw, and imperfect.
And yet this fear of failure is pride as well. I do not judge others harshly. I am usually able to acknowledge the strength without tearing apart the weakness. And yet, somehow I feel that I cannot fail in front of others and choose instead not to even try. Logically, I know that the result of this action is failure every time while trying would result in the possibility of at least some success. Also, I would have a lot more right to pride for trying, and even possibly succeeding, in something that doesn’t come naturally to me. Instead of stealing God’s glory and staking claim to its privileges, I could acknowledge those glories as His, freeing me up to stop trying to do other things on my own power and steam- learning instead to lean on Him to help me through the rough patches and wash away the fear.
Time will tell, though I expect it might take me years to look back and see what it says.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Friday, May 07, 2010
maybe one word will help
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