Life is Kinda Like Chess (but not really)

This morning I found myself playing a game of chess with my husband in an “off the beaten path” coffee shop. We weren’t planning on going there… just like we never plan to end up at the library or the park or any of the random places we find ourselves. We’re in some kind of strange middle life that feels awkward and well, it is what it is- unprecedented. With Elijah going to preschool half days in Coeur d ‘Alene (a 20 minute drive from our home in Post Falls), Martin working a schedule that is different everyday, and Owen… well he’s now the unstoppable king of the house ever since he learned of his powers to ransack everything in his path at full speed. I’m not trying to complain, in fact, I see lots of new possibilities right around the corner. I’m just still at that place when change is fresh and complicated. I don’t know exactly how to function, how to manage what I used to manage, and well, it’s just a little bit frustrating.

So, as I sat across from the man I love, strategizing just how to capture his king, I realized that life is a little like chess. Our best defense against a world of problems is to be proactive, to see the possibilities and be one step ahead. But what about the times when we’re one or two steps behind? When we don’t realize the opponent’s bishop is about to take out our knight, or even worse our own king? It happens. I guess that’s when I’m glad that life isn’t about winning or having everything figured out. That’s when the true King steps in overlooking our mistakes and giving us grace that we never deserve. When the world would say it’s finished, God says it is only the beginning. That is what gives me hope. He can use my mistakes for something great. He can take me to a coffee shop off the beaten path on a Tuesday morning and give me clarity when I was feeling that all may be lost.

Breaking Down and Building Up

If your heart were a home, complete with rooms of all sizes, what room would hold your emotions? Would it be a room with wide-open space that welcomed others in, like a living room? Or would it be a medium sized bedroom, more intimate, yet also an easy space for sharing? I think most of us keep our emotions in the smallest place possible, like the attic or linen closet, at least I know this has been true for me. But why are we so afraid to show what is really going on inside us? Why do we hold back overwhelming emotions?
Denial is easier.
Is it really that simple? We are so busy that we don’t want to stop and deal with things like feeling mournful, depressed, touched, convicted, or sometimes even joy. The tangible, necessary things always take priority. We’re also concerned with other’s reactions. What will _____ think if I just break down, right here, right now? But what if something life changing is about to happen in that little house- your heart- and you turn off the power? You keep your despair locked in the closet where no one will ever find it.
I guess at first, it gets worse. Then it gets a lot worse, and you are in such a pit of despair that you never want to come out of the attic, or out from under the kitchen sink, or wherever it is that you have managed to put the “real” you, and you begin to live this miserable double life. Your face might appear happy, but inside- your home is falling apart with no hopes of repair.
What we often fail to realize is that allowing ourselves to reach that place of mourning is a good thing. This is the starting point of growth. When you understand that you are pitiful, inadequate…lost, well that’s when the work can begin. Nothing can be done if nothing “needs” done.
I find myself at this point constantly, maybe it’s just been a rough year, or maybe I’m just a convicted emotional person, either way I know that I am nothing on my own. I am helpless, pathetic, worthless. I go into my closet, overwhelmed with my life, and I cry, and I cry, and I cry until God gives me the strength to face what I need to. I’m still not great at letting others in. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to keep my emotions in the “living room,” but maybe someday I’ll move into a small bedroom with a little window.

“Blessed are they who mourn for they will be comforted” Matthew 5:3

Another translation says:

“Those who are sad now are happy, because God will comfort them.”

Happy Fourth Birthday, Elijah!

On September 25th my Elijah will be four...FOUR! I just can't believe the time has gone so fast! Ironically, that exact day was the day Martin proposed to me in 2004, two years before Elijah was born. It seems not much time has passed since then, when we'd spend countless hours walking the park in York, Nebraska, but at the same time it feels worlds away. Now I know things I never planned on knowing like the theme songs to all of the most prominant super heroes, and the names of building trucks like loaders and cherry pickers, dump trucks and cement mixers, which play an active part in our daily lives.
It doesn't seem like I should have a four-year-old. But then again it seems completely impossible not to have him. I love listening to him when he doesn't think I'm listening, like in the car. He talks to himself, relives conversations that we've had or that he's heard in school with character voices and all kinds of drama. Yesterday, he was saying, "No, no Hannah!" in the back seat of the car. I asked who Hannah was. He told me she was a girl at school, but that she was in a different class. This morning I knew exactly who Hannah was when I heard a teacher scolding her and telling her to get back in line. They really are listening ALL THE TIME!
Many days after school i let him change into "play clothes," clothes that aren't school uniform. He has taken on this tendancy, probably from me, that his clothes have to match. He refused to wear his favorite "number twelve" pants because we couldn't find the "number twelve" shirt. Then he saw one of his jumpsuits, you know those sweats that have matching sweat tops... they look like little running suits, any ways... he was thrilled when he discovered that he found something that matched. "I'll wear these, mom!" he exclaimed excitedly and bounced on his bed to pull them on.
He's always making me laugh about something... many times when I shouldn't be laughing. Its a known fact that laughing when you aren't suppose to is ten times more fun than when its expected, like in church, or in my case when I'm trying to be stern and disciplining my child. He's had so many potty accidents that it has become routine to go in the bathroom and get him cleaned up. Its incredibly hard not to giggle when he starts singing while I'm trying to get him cleaned up, or when he turns to me like nothing is going on and says "I love you," or something silly.
Saturday, that silly boy will hold up four fingers instead of three when you ask him his age, and there will be four candles on his DUMP TRUCK cake, but part of me will always see that baby, my first that was born on the 25th of September.

Changes

I'm sitting in the car listening to Owen's deep breathing as he sleeps comfotably clutching his stuffed animal buddies in his car seat. Today is so unlike the past week; there are actually fluffy cumulus nimbus clouds in the foreground of a beautiful bright blue sky. What a contrast and a gift compared to the last grey and rainy days.
I just dropped Martin off at his new job. Yes, he started working at a boys rehabilitation home last week! We're are both excited about it, not just because he is now out of a place that caused him much stress, but also for the potential here to really play a part in changing young boys lives. It seems it was meant to be. I'm looking forward to hearing all about what goes on there and I know he is going to enjoy it.
With all of the recent changes to our schedule, I'm just trying to hang on and keep going. It's a little crazy I have to admit, getting out the door for pre-school in the morning, then coming back a few hours later (usually with a cranky toddler), and also with MArtin's new unsettled schedule. We're staying afloat though, and all of these changes are truly for the better.

Uh oh... Owen caught me... He's waking up now. No more computer time.

Pre-school Already?

I can't believe the day has come... tommorrow Elijah starts pre-school. We've had almost four years of fun together and now he's moving into this new stage of life. It only hit me about a week ago that it is really happening and closer than it could possibly seem. I know that he's ready, I know that he will love it... and though I know that there are many many benefits, I also know that I will miss him.
He's been my buddy and turned into the most wonderful big brother to Owen. He loves his place of knowing all the rules and making sure that Owen is held to the same high standards. I wonder about all the things that will change now as I sit on this last night of what will become many nights of wondering how he will function without me.
that's probably the most scary part- wondering what it will be like without me. No one knows him as well as I do ( and no one ever will until many many years from now). Of course, the whole point of parenting is to shape children to be able to go out away from us independantly and be "all right," but secretly we want them to need us, we want to keep them close forever, however selfish and unecisary that may be.
He's going to be okay. He's going to love it. Life will go on.... it will change, it will be different, but it will go on.