Some Years

Some Years

 

I have felt another blog coming on for a few days. I wasn’t sure how to approach this one since the New Year is nipping at our heels. Should I go with the “What I have learned” angle or the “What I will do differently in the future” angle? What *is* a girl to do? I decided to go with both. This blog is broken up into two parts. You’re smart, you can follow me here.

Of course I should start with what I have learned, but there isn’t enough time, space, or attention span for me to write all of that. A novel in and of itself that would be! Being that 2012 seemed to be a rather ‘stupid year’ I will simply fill you in on the biggies of what I learned this past year. Please keep in mind that this life-education didn’t simply take place in one year, rather the “Ah-Ha” moments took place. In other words, more than one time in my recent past have I been set up to learn these lessons, but the light bulb actually came on during this past year.

So, what did Becky learn? I’m glad you asked! I learned that I cannot fix people. “Really? But you’re a counselor, Becky.” You say. Yes, yes, I am. I even had someone have the unmitigated (or unmedicated) gall to say to me in an argument, “You’re the counselor, you figure this out!” (You may gasp). Counselors aren’t supposed to fix people. Counselors show people that they have the tools to help themselves. They enlighten, encourage, show options for solutions, etc. If necessary one may give advice, but believe it or not, we really aren’t supposed to.

Another life lesson this year has been that there is rarely, if ever, an exception to anyone’s rule. By that I mean that if someone is a perpetual victim or martyr and try to lead you to believe that somehow you are their saving grace; that you are different, well, quite frankly, you aren’t. In fact you should see the BIG RED FLAG and run fast, far, and do NOT look back! You shall surely be blamed for downfalls and shortcomings as well, I assure you. Perpetual victims and martyrs love their role too much to leave it, so finding a savior is not an option.

I have learned that tragedies happen. It doesn’t matter if you have months to prepare for the passing of a sick friend or you wake to find that one has passed from an accident, there is no ‘being ready’ for this.

Swapping roles from counselor to mom and back is a challenge for me. I have always worn my feelings on my sleeve. Being a counselor I have learned to mask that a little and toughen up (Mom always told me I needed a tougher skin… I think I finally got it) but now I have a hard time reminding myself that it’s ok to be sad, or cry, or just to talk to someone. I guess that sounds crazy, but it really is a challenge. Learning to balance….learning to balance J

I learned that I really love to run because it gets a lot of stress out. I won’t run marathons or participate in Iron Man competitions because I want to keep loving it. I won’t run another race on a hurt knee (insert “Duh”) But I will run because I love it. I need it. It suits me. When I run, I pray, or think, or both. Or neither.

I have learned to really, really value friendships. I have the honor of being friends with some of the most beautiful, self-less people that I hardly knew at all a year ago. Instead of listening to what ‘others say about others’ we can all find many wonderful things about each other!

 I learned that I love to write. Someone used to try to get me to take writing courses. Why?!?! I love to write. I understand that my writing could be better. I understand that it could certainly be fine-tuned. I also have seen so many people take exactly what they love and have it turned into something they hate because it becomes a chore. This isn’t a chore. This is something I love. I can really channel some thoughts here.

I truly cling to my children and thank God for them every day. I can’t believe they are mine. I have this Ah-Ha almost every day and I’m glad that I do. I am amazed that I have them. I, and I don’t think I have ever admitted this out loud, am afraid of losing them. I have friends who are amazing wonderful people who have lost their children. No one should lose a child. I don’t understand or pretend to know what to say to this. I can’t speak for God and won’t even try. It’s sad and horrible and it’s scary. So, truly, I cling to my children.  I’ll leave it at that.

Most importantly, my faith has grown in abundance this year. When I look back at this past year, there are so many things I could say that I wish hadn’t happened, but I would also have to say that because of these trials, I have grown tremendously. Getting to a place where you have nowhere to look but to God is most humbling. I have learned that the more I try to grow myself; God decides He’ll grow me up in a different way. His ways are best, honestly, and certainly He knows where I need growth. I also know that He never leaves me; He loves me as I am, no matter my situation. He knows me, He made me. He loves me, accepts me, wants me, no… craves me.

 

So what will I do differently? I’ll talk with God more. I’ll really talk with Him. I built a real relationship with God and it’s so hard to put into words, and so personal that I won’t even try to explain, but I’ll talk with Him more, and of course, listen… a LOT more.

I’ll try (really really hard) to stop judging. I am putting myself out here for attack now b/c you now know that I am judgmental. I don’t mean to be, but I am. I fervently pray that I see myself and others the way God sees us. I want to be more understanding, compassionate, loving. That does not involve becoming a doormat like I have been in the past. There is a huge difference in being a doormat and having boundaries.

Speaking of boundaries… I’ll have them. It’s healthy to have boundaries. You empower yourself when you set boundaries. I recommend the book Boundaries if you aren’t sure where to start with yours, but I know now that I have let too many people walk all over mine, and truth be told, I have overstepped others’ as well. Boundaries: Have your own. Respect others’.

This year I will try to laugh a lot more. I don’t know where my laughter went this past year, but I am determined to get it back! There were many times this year that didn’t warrant laughter, but there were times that did and I had to make myself lighten up. I want to find that again.

And although this isn’t by any means all, it’s all I’ll write about for now, I will remember that although I can’t, God can, and He lives in me. I can’t find the right words right now, but you can, God, and you live in me. I may not have the heart to forgive that person today, but you do, God, and you live in me. I don’t have the motivation to do more today, but you do, God, and you live in me. So while I may feel unable, unmotivated, unworthy… God is able, ready, and worthy and alive in me. I can’t. He can.

So, while I know I have many blessings to count, I am ready to count the end of 2012 as one of them. I welcome 2013 and all the wonderment it will bring. I welcome the growth (oops, I need to be careful), the laughter, the fun, the friendships. I welcome the new memories to make. I welcome God to take care of us and lighten our hearts.

I’d love to take this moment to thank you for reading my writings. Many of you are so encouraging and I thank you for that. Your words to me are taken seriously and dearly.

I welcome you to chime in on what you have learned and what you will do differently as well J

Blessings and love for a wonderful New Year!

Becky

December 30, 2012

Jump

This blog somehow escaped transition from FB to my blogger page... I wrote it this summer, for my loves Liam and Mary.

The Extra Penny

To Liam and Mary – Jump

 

So I am writing my second blog of the day because there is so much stirring inside of me I need to get out; not just to Liam and Mary, but to myself and perhaps to someone else who may need this as well.

 

So I eagerly press ‘accept’ on my cell the other night because it is my son calling from Florida. He is visiting his cousins and having a ball. The excitement in his voice tells as much as his stories of the golf games, his time on the campus at WFU, sailing, etc. Then he says “Oh! Did I tell you about the alligator we saw while canoeing?” As I stammer with words, he manages to get his out more articulately. Apparently while the boys were canoeing they encounter an alligator “as long as our canoe” (about 9’) and “we could reach out and touch it if we’d wanted to”. My heart raced with words of warning, but I realized the encounter was over, he was excited, he had seen something I probably never will, and he was safe. I was almost, well, envious! Wow! Liam is smart and I trust he didn’t try to pet the thing, but he saw nature, in nature. He was taken away with it and appreciated the beauty of it.

 

Earlier this same day I had taken Mary Abbott and a couple of her friends to Pt. Mallard. She runs up to me and with giddiness exclaims “I jumped off the 2^nd platform!” I was so excited for her, because I remember taking that same plunge as a young girl. It is terrifying when you look down and realize how high up you really are. She said she kept her feet flat and they stung, but it was worth it. I was glad she didn’t ask first for some strange reason.  She was proud. So was I.

 

When my sisters and I were kids we did stupid things. The fact that we are all alive and healthy is still absolutely beyond me. Being raised in the sleepy town of Trinity we had to invent things to occupy our time. One of our favorite summer activities was to prop up the cushions from the outdoor furniture on the ground and roll, yes, do the dead-man’s roll off of the garage roof onto the cushions. Granted, the drop was only about 6 feet where we would roll, but still. We also had a designated ‘watcher’ who would watch for cars in the street while we would skateboard down Resse’s hill with immense momentum and no ability to stop. You had to really trust the ‘watcher’ and hope they weren’t mad at you for some reason. These are just a couple of things we have only recently shared with our mom.

 

My point is I love that my kids have no fear. I used to have no fear. When I had my car packed to leave for Auburn I told Mom, “I don’t really remember how to get there”. She said “Just follow everyone else with an Auburn decal.” I did! Seriously! I got there.  I don’t know when I learned fear, but I know that I am learning from my kids to get back to that and I am so grateful. I know that the things I regret the most are things I didn’t do. I don’t want you, Liam and Mary, doing stupid things like drinking and driving or doing drugs, but I want you to live and love with reckless abandon. I want you to risk you heart and laugh out loud as much as you can. Don’t worry about things that probably won’t happen. Just Jump.

 

I can promise you a few things: I promise you will get hurt; it may be your heart it may be some bumps, bruises or scrapes, it may be your feet if you forget to point them going into the water. But it’s worth what you learn from it. I promise some people will take you for granted and not understand your good nature. I promise things won’t always work out the way you plan. But I also promise you this; the giddiness from the jump is worth living in your heart over and over. I promise your heart will take more pictures than a camera ever will. I promise that for every person who may not understand or appreciate you, you will meet dozens and dozens who you will love and who will love you back. I promise God’s plan is bigger and better than yours anyway.

 

So please, be careful, look at the alligator but keep your hands inside the canoe. And point your toes when you jump. But jump!

I love you both,

Mom

P.S. On the days that I’m afraid, remind me to jump, too.

A birth, a wedding, a death, and a tragedy

A birth, a marriage, a death, and a tragedy

 

My best friend Susan told me to write tonight. So I am. I can’t even begin to tell you what the last 5 days of emotion have been like for me and those around me. They have been, well, emotional.  A week ago I sat in church and looked at my precious, very pregnant friend Amanda discussing when her little Chloe would arrive. She was due on December 12, 2012; 12/12/12. And she came that day.

Another beautiful event on December 12, 2012 was the marriage of two friends from church. The wedding was beautiful and the union, the songs, the atmosphere had me and those around me full to over-flowing with love and excitement about what our God can do when we open our hearts.

In this beautiful circle of life comes the inevitable saying goodbye to those we love and care for as well. On Thursday evening my sweet neighbor, who is very much like another mom called to tell me that I needed to come say goodbye to her husband. You see, Mr. Ray had cancer for over four years. He fought and won the many different cancers that attacked his body time and again. This time was different. The days were very short and cruel. Within 3-4 days of knowing the cancer was in his liver and brain Mr. Ray went from being alert, walking, talking, etc. to being in and out of consciousness and having labored breathing. I walked into his room and touched his shoulder. He looked up at me. It was my chance to talk to him.

Rewind 36 years to a little girl whose father had cancer and she had no idea what that meant, how long he had, or that he would die; and to the young woman five months pregnant with her second child whose step-father, also diagnosed with cancer died, within three weeks of his diagnosis, when he sat down in the chair for his first chemotherapy. This girl wasn’t going to let another father go without letting him know how much she loved him, how much he meant to her and the kids.

With words muttered and tears dropping I said what I needed to say and heard a very meek “love you, too” back. It was all either of us needed from each other, but somehow, I wish there’d been more. Don’t we always?

I received the phone call the next morning and prepared all day for how I would tell my children. Following one of my lessons in a 5^th grade class a precious teacher called me over and showed me her computer. The shootings. The children. My mind went numb. I couldn’t cry. I went into counselor mode and began to prepare for how I would talk to my own kids about this. On my way back to my office I passed some first graders and without realizing it, I reached out squeezed one’s little shoulders and said “Hey, Sweetie… you have a great weekend… love you!” Or maybe I did realize it. I wanted to stop and hug every one of them. They looked smaller, sweeter. I suspect they will for a long time.

I left school a little early that day and picked up my daughter. When I called my son on his way home from school and told him about Mr. Ray I could have heard a pin drop. I think it was then that I finally gave myself permission to stop being a counselor and be a mom, be a neighbor, be a normal person.

Throughout the weekend I have struggled with this so much that I emailed my pastor about it. I think people who have a career out of making sure others are emotionally taken care of, have a difficult time allowing themselves to just let go and, well, grieve. In church this morning our pastor said it’s ok to be mad about things, God can handle that. I need to be. I am mad. I am mad that people that I love die. I am mad that sweet precious children are senselessly gunned down. I am mad that I have lost so much of my naivety and will never get it back. I’m mad that evil won’t give up. But please understand that I am not an angry person. I am hurt. If you are a counselor or have ever been to counseling, you know that hurt and anger go hand in hand. When you see one, look for the other.

But I’m also grateful. Yes. I said grateful. I am grateful that my friend had a beautiful little girl this week and can experience falling in love every day for the rest of her life. I am grateful that two friends from church got married this week and shared their joy with us and I have hope for that kind of love because of them! I am grateful that Mr. Ray watched over me while he was here and I have a feeling I now have 3 dads in heaven watching over me now (and it just may take all three!) It’s ok to laugh… We need to laugh. I’m grateful that I am awakened to what is important in my life. No, God doesn’t love evil and He didn’t will it, but I am watching at how our nation is pulling together to show evil that it can go back to hell. We are strong enough to love each other through this.

I am not Pollyanna. I am no longer very idealistic. I am real, but I am hopeful, and I am faithful. I refuse to give in even though I feel weak right now.

I told Susan tonight that I had to get all of this out somehow. Susan said “Write, Becky… God will fill up what you get out.” I hope she’s right.

Peace to all,

Becky

December 16, 2012