Am I Ready?

I remember when John and I talked about having kids. I begged him for about a year to start trying but he wanted a million dollars in the bank first. True story. He actually said that. Let’s just say that eventually I got my way and about 9 months later we had Rachel.

I think we are never “ready” to have kids. My brother and his wife just adopted and they are finding their way, marvelously, as new parents - but the whole thing is overwhelming and there are no real “directions” on how to parent. Sure there is lots of advice but you just kinda have to DO IT.

My point? I have decided I am going to take off my wedding rings.

I figure I will never be “ready”. I just have to do it. Can you imagine with me how I am going to finally decide to do it? It's like ripping off a band-aid, like parachuting, like when I was giving John shots toward the end….how do I bring myself to do this? I haven't done it yet, but I am thinking about deciding to do it.

You see, according to the United States of America, the Social Security Administration, the DMV, and the state of Virginia, etc., I am single. I can no longer check the box that says “married”. I need to start embracing, in truth, my new reality. When I see the rings on my finger, it says to me “married”. But the status of my relationship with John has, in its earthly realms, changed. I do not love him any less. (Probably more, if I am honest.) But our relationship has changed. When we said our vows, we said “til death do us part”. Here we are. I have reached the “til”.

I don’t like it, but there is a reality here for me. I want to live in truth. By taking my rings off, I am facing my story which is now carrying on without John alive. He is most certainly still around - I talk to him and about him often. I want him to be “around” always. So, in this change of relationship, I will take off my rings, save the diamond for Jake, and melt our two wedding bands into something new – something I wear differently as a necklace or a bracelet….perhaps with my favorite word.

HOPE.

Because I have hope that I will see John again. I have hope that this new chapter in my life has purpose and meaning and a future of joy, even in its differentness.

Will you hope that with me?

My Book, His Paragraph

There are many thing I miss about my husband. I could write elaborate sentences about his generosity, helpfulness, chivalry, and romance. But there are many things I do not miss about my husband. I could write a very lengthy and equally elaborate paragraph about these things. No, I will not be writing these down. Ever. That information is for a choice few.

But if I am honest with myself, John could (and did) write beautiful things about me. And he could write a book about what he does not miss about me.

During this season of Lent, I have been reminded of death almost daily. My husband’s, friends who have cancer, my friend’s dog who has cancer, and trees that didn’t make it in our last snow storm. While running, I have been listening to “Songs for Lent” from a New York Hymns - a collection of songs based on the stations of the cross. It tells me the story over and over again about what Jesus did for me. It makes me grateful and it makes me want to turn away from the very things that He died for. My sins. The book that John could write about what he doesn’t miss about me.

So what are those things? You may know some of them as you read this and many you do not know. God knows them all and I know quite a few….but probably not all. So I ask myself, “What are those things that my eyes are not open to? What are those things that keep me from a pure relationship with God and with others?” The season of Lent is set aside for me to examine my heart, attitudes, and behaviors and turn away from those things that tie me down. Yeah….repent.

I am repenting from the book that John could write about me and developing the sentences or paragraphs that he and others could write about me now. But not for any other reason than to be thankful for the sin that is behind me and for the hope of future glory in store for me. To know the gravity of the cross and live in light of its promise is on my mind these days. But I am wanting to be honest about who I was, who I am, and who I will be.

What would your paragraph or book say?

Our Hearts

I was watching that movie “Seven Pounds” with Will Smith where he chooses to help 7 people “paying forward” for the fact that 7 other people had died as a result of his fault in a horrible car accident. I won’t spoil the movie for you in case you haven’t seen it. Please do. It is painful yet beautiful.

In the movie, the most poignant scene for me was the heart transplant scene. This woman gets a new heart, and everyone in the operating room is waiting to see if that heart, not hers, will start to beat. It starts beating. And I thought “The heart is a muscle that just wants to work. It wants to beat.”

The heart also wants to love.

There is a new man in my life. His name is Jackson. He is 5 days old. My nephew. I haven’t met him yet but I saw his face on my phone last night with his pudgy face and his huge hands and I loved him. I was meant to love him. My heart couldn’t wait to love him. It was meant to love.

Hearts beat, giving us life. Hearts love, giving us purpose in life.

Me? Apply for a Job?

I have decided, very decisively, that I will not try to look for a JOB-job until January of next year after my daughter, Rachel, has completed her first semester of college. To start something “new” before then would be disastrous. I have a tendency (how do I put this?) to get agitated and impatient when stress comes my way and I don’t want to be that way when Rachel is off at school. So I will put off my job search til NEXT January.

Really…..is that what it is, Kristin?

Busted. I am scared to death. I have not earned over $16,000/year EVER in my life! Perhaps the year that I was an assistant editor for a piano magazine fresh out of college I might have made $20,000. But that was because my flute professor in college got me the internship that landed me the job. I didn’t have to go looking for it.

Since then, every other job has come to ME. I have not had to look for jobs. “Sure, I’ll teach your kid piano lessons”, “Sure I’ll take over your job as choir director”, “Sure I can help with that musical”, “Sure, sure, sure”. People came to me. Jobs came to me. (Notice, they are all music-related positions. Not the biggest money-makers, us musicians.)

So the idea of “applying” for a job and creating my, gulp, “resume” is suffocating. Enough so that I am putting it off and justifying it as “I need to be here for my kids.” In my partial defense, I am currently teaching piano lessons, directing a choir, working at my kids’ school, and playing for and directing some musicals at local community theaters. So I am not doing NOTHING. But I am also NOT writing my resume. Well that’s not true either. This is what I have so far:

OBJECTIVE:

EDUCATION:

WORK EXPERIENCE:

VOLUNTEER EXPERIENCE:

That’s right. Just the headings. At least it’s a start.

Building Trust

“But how can I trust you?”

“Just because you don’t trust me doesn’t mean that I am wrong.”

I can’t believe that I am quoting movie lines. I used to make fun of people who did that. They would quote Lord of the Rings or Star Wars (and not the funny ones like “would someone get this walking carpet out of my way?”) and I was like “What? It’s just a movie.” Perhaps these movie quoters have been on to something -  that life is a lesson. We are all searching for meaning. And we can find that meaning in a movie. *

My quote is from Ocean’s Eleven. George Clooney said it to Julia Roberts. They had been married before (?) and she said that she couldn’t bring herself to trust him about something. His response was that mistrust didn’t mean he had it all wrong. This got me thinking.

I’ve blown it in the past. People have hurt me. God has allowed some major tragedy in my life. When I look to the past, I ask “How can others trust me, how can I trust others, and how can I trust God?” Some may freak out that I just plopped God in that sentence with broken creatures like me and other humans….but I still ask “How can there be trust?” When the past has been tragic and hurtful CAN there be something “right” in there? I would hope so for all 3 scenarios. Me. Others. God.

You see, my mistakes, people’s daggers or abandonment, and God’s “allowing” death and disease and hardship is not the truest thing about any of them. I’ve made mistakes, but I have also done good. People have said stupid, horrible things but they have also lifted me up. God “allowed” my husband to die, but He has provided for me to live. So, just because the “bad” has happened doesn’t mean that “good” doesn’t exist.

George Clooney might have been a snake (albeit a hot one) but not in all things. There is good in us all. The bad is not the truest thing about us. So maybe we can learn to TRUST. Thing is, we have to trust that trusting in trust is something we can trust in...and find healing.

*Best life lesson ever from a movie: “Sometimes you just have to wear stretchy pants” – Nacho Libre

Losing Control

I was just Facebook messaging my friend from college, Mary Cade. (we used to write these silly rhyming poems to each other like “roses are red, violets are blue, what are we doing tonight, and I love you”. Some of them were quite long.) I told her that I feel like I am losing control of my kids. I want to know who they are hanging out with, where they are (thank you to my brother, Randy, who hooked me up with the “Find Friends” app linked to their phones), what they are doing, and when they will be home. Mary Cade asked me to come visit her in Asheville, but I find myself scared to leave my kids at home. I just want to be here. Stay home. Know where they are.

It’s just that John is gone now and I am a single parent. All decisions come from me, not from the two of us. I feel alone and scared and I just want us all to stay home, not go out, not drive in the icy rain, and not talk to people that I don’t even know. I figured out just now that I must be scared that I will lose them, like I lost their father. I lost control of that situation – not that I ever had control. And maybe that is what I need to remind myself. This stuff is not up to me and it never was (nice Sara Groves reference, Kristin.)

I remember writing on our website updates that I take comfort (which literally means “with strength”. Did you know that? Madeleine L’Engle told me) in the fact that God numbers our days. I need to remember that this takes courage, faith and belief in a God who has everything under control and KNOWS what is best. Even if it seems like the worst to me.

So, yes, Mary Cade…I will come visit you. Third weekend in February sound good?

Journaling

In my last blog I quoted the second to last Batman movie. Today, just to show myself that I do have an intellectual side, I will quote Madeleine L’Engle.

She once said “it is alright to wallow in one’s journal; it is a way of getting rid of self-pity and self-indulgence and self-centeredness. What we work out in our journals we don’t take out on our family and friends.”

I have actually blown up balloons for my own self-pity parties. I am good at it. And self-indulgence? Have you SEEN me eat? Don’t even get me started on self-centeredness. This blog is not the time or place.

But my journals, whether they are actually written down or talked out loud during a long run, contain TONS of complaining and self-pity. It’s confession really.  I release those hardened, sticky, cumbersome feelings of “why me?” and “I will never have an easy life?” to the atmosphere of the blue sky and then look up and see the sun, shining. For a moment peace overwhelms me. I will take that moment and cherish it. Because the next day I will probably do the complaining part all over again.

But maybe someday, if I practice this long enough, my complaining will be less and my peace will be more. Maybe I will realize how yucky the complaining feels and how splendid the sun feels. Maybe.

Before my piano lessons come, I gotta get a quick run/complain in. I wouldn’t want to miss the chance for a self-pity party-turned rainbow sighting to pass me by.