“Griefing”…Marking Three Years (A Life Interrupted)

Posted on May 31, 2023 by hymningandhaing

I’ve taken to making up words. I guess that’s what happens after three years. We’ve moved past the point of surviving and here we are in this new reality—”griefing.” No longer adjusting to life without Mom as we are in fact living our lives without Mom. As you can imagine, this brings about a whole new stage of sadness.

While in survival mode the days blurred together. My mind began noting all of the things she was missing. All the milestones, events, holidays and ordinary moments. I would catch myself saying, “Mom should be here.” In survival mode you look at the calendar and note how much time has passed. In this early stage of grief you remember where you were in the days leading up to her positive COVID test, ER visits, hospital stay and ultimately her death. In survival mode you are doing everything you can to just get by. Griefing is different.

Griefing is living daily with this neverending sorrow. I feel like it’s a permanent stage, one you can’t escape. It feels like a step that will neither get better nor worse. The memories exist, but we are now making memories without her. I hate this feeling. The sting is still there, the tears remain just below the surface and yet there is this awful resignation. Understanding that this is part of the human condition doesn’t make it better. Knowing that millions of people feel exactly the same way doesn’t make it any easier. It’s this hidden current that runs through society and no one wants to talk about it. Ever.

It’s interesting to me that in the aftermath of COVID we are hearing more about prolonged grief and complicated grief as mental health conditions. Many are receiving these diagnoses and seeking treatment. And while I understand that some of the characteristics of these conditions are severe (such as the inability to resume daily activites, etc) I also think that our failure to cope with loss has more to do with a lack of communication and overall empathy for one another. I could go on and on about the societal demand to resume our work schedule, home life and the call to return to “normal,” but these things have become a staple of modern living and will lkely never change.

There are some things in life that we will never fully understand, death being one of them. Losing my Mother has changed my perspective on so many things. I now posess a form of patience and compassion that surprises me to this day. I have been humbled in a way I could have never imagined. Empathy has changed how I react to everything. I am different now. I am griefing.

Writing has been my therapy, the best form of solace for my grief. Who knows where I will be in this journey a year from now, five years from now or even ten (if I am afforded that luxury). They say time heals all wounds. It doesn’t. I’ll stand by that.

“A Life Interrupted” is an ongoing series of blog posts dealing with the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.

All the Pieces (A Life Interrupted)

Posted on May 31, 2022 by hymningandhaing

We are the living pieces of those who have loved us well.
Author unknown

Several years ago I came upon this photograph while scrolling through my social media feed. It immediately caught my eye. Never before had I seen such an accurate depiction of parenting. I remember at the time searching for the name of the artist or the title of the piece, the location of the sculpture, and any information that could offer a clue as to whether or not my interpretation was correct. I came up with countless Pinterest board pins, a few blog posts, and an entry on Reddit but no true identifying information. I immediately took a screenshot and vowed to continue the research at a later date. (Yes, I do things like that.)

Fast forward and this was the image that immediately came to mind when my Mother passed away in May of 2020. In my mind’s eye, I could see the pieces of the parent sculpture arranged to make up the form of the child sculpture. Sort of like a personified “giving tree,” the adult figure surrendering pieces of itself to the growing child he/she loves so much. In essence, the child was all the pieces of its creator…and thus all the pieces of the ultimate Creator. Did I still have the photo on my camera roll? I did a quick search. Yes, I still had it…safely tucked away between photos of my own growing children.

Today marks the second anniversary of my Mother’s death. This is a hard day. It’s hard not just because it marks the worst day but because it marks a series of the worst days. I texted my Dad this afternoon telling him that I have no real words and that the hurt remains the same today as it did two years ago. She is so dearly missed—and she has missed so many things:

grandchildren graduating from high school
a granddaughter earning her credentials to become a dental hygienist
a granddaughter earning her nursing pin
a daughter earning her Master’s Degree
grandchildren learning to drive
new house/cars
grandchildren’s sporting events/school dances
family vacation to the lake
and countless birthdays/anniversaries/holidays and special occasions

I’m sure I’m leaving a million things out and that’s just it…she has missed out and we have missed her in all the mundane everyday things, too. What we wouldn’t do to turn back time and walk into her house and find her there…

I feel like I have been on a two-year intense study into the anatomy of grief—why we grieve, how best to grieve, the cycle of grief, how to cope with grief, a pathway through grief, etc. It’s a course I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy and yet many of us find ourselves here. If I handed you my smartphone you would find bookmarked numerous articles, podcasts, books, meditation practices and graphics about grief and how to move forward. It’s a work in progress and from what I now know, it’s neither a straight line nor something you move on from entirely. There are so many parts, so many big and little pieces involved in loving someone deeply. I think that’s why this sculpture stood out to me way back when and why it still speaks to me today. It’s both a sad and happy reminder that we are in fact, all the pieces of those who have loved us, influenced us, and made us who we are today.

Now, I make it a purposeful habit to find my Mom in my own character, to see her traits and personality in my siblings, to find her best qualities in my children and her grandchildren, to see the parts of her that resonate within the people she loved and cared for—and I have not been disappointed! I see her best “pieces” show up as love, kindness, determination, creativity, strength, loyalty, perseverance, wisdom and so much more. These are the pieces of her that will live on through us and live on through generations as we share and tell her story and model all that she has taught us.

I dearly miss her. She is irreplaceable in my life, that much I know for certain. Like the child in the sculpture, I am her living pieces…we are her living pieces.

There are losses that rearrange the world. Deaths that change the way you see everything, grief that tears everything down. Pain that transports you to an entirely different universe, even while everyone else thinks nothing has really changed.
― Megan Devine

“A Life Interrupted” is an ongoing series of blog posts dealing with the loss of my mother to COVID-19.

From Gray to Grace

Posted on September 16, 2019 by hymningandhaing

Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it. —Haruki Murakami

Last week’s tragedy will never make sense. No answer will ever be good enough. Understanding will likely never come. A life cut short. Senseless violence.

ERNIE ORTIZ 1949-2019

It has been said that we’re all one phone call away from dropping to our knees. And nothing has ever been more true. Human life is fragile and fleeting. Most of us naively walking around as if we have all the time in the world, as if our days are not numbered, as if we have some sense of control…and sadly, we do not. And while life itself is a gift, we don’t always live like it. Our words, our actions, our brokenness speak for themselves reminding us that we are all fallible humans. Even the best of us walk the line between sinner and saint daily.

So it is no surprise that at some point, we all find ourselves here…struggling with loss in its many forms, be it friendships, relationships, marriages, jobs, hopes or dreams, but I feel it is the loss of life that hurts the most. It’s inescapable. Unavoidable. The grief, the permanency, maybe even the unknown…it fills our thoughts, occupies our hearts and often leaves wounds that never quite heal.

Statistically, death occurs on a bell curve with our most vulnerable moments at the beginning and the end of our life spans. If you’re lucky, it’s something one only deals with during their latter days. We know that death due to age, illness, and disease remain tragic, but a life taken too soon, a life snuffed out, a life robbed at any age hurts as if it’s been compounded tenfold. Many will tell you that time heals all wounds. Maybe. More realistically though, time only allows for space between the hurt.

Finding peace is all circumstances isn’t easy. In fact, it’s a lot of work. If you’re not a Christian, I honestly don’t know how you do it. For me, knowing that I have a God who walks beside me is something that I don’t take for granted. When I am weak, He is my strength. When I am lost, He is my rock. Christ’s ultimate sacrifice reminds us that death doesn’t have the final say. Uncle Ernie was a believer, I take comfort in that. Our lives, our very existence is not in vain. On the mountaintop and in the valley, there remains a plan and a purpose for each of us.

In the days and weeks to come, stories will be told and photos will be shared. In talking with family, we have chosen to focus on the “dash” and celebrate a life LIVED. As poet Linda Ellis explains, “He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.” And what a dash it was! Countless adventures, innumerable memories, and a bounty of friends.

When you’re a kid, life seems so black and white. There’s good and evil. Right and wrong. The lines are clearly drawn. As we grow up, move from adolescence through adulthood, we realize that life is actually more of a marbled gray. Dark shades, complicated, stressful, and uneven as we navigate day to day living among the broken, but intermixed with bright hues, beautiful, joyful, and full of promise! As we all inch forward, I pray that we move from that marbled gray into grace! Life is too short to live any other way. Let us approach each other more tenderly and offer love, patience, and kind words…only then can we truly find resolve (and maybe even peace) along the way.

Rest Easy, Uncle Ernie.

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

2 Corinthians 5:1

KEEP CALM, Summer’s Coming (15 Days of Sunshine-Inspired Songs) SONG 6

Posted on June 28, 2019 by hymningandhaing

Sometimes the best vacation is a staycation. –author unknown

I love the movie, “The Wizard of Oz,” for many reasons…but especially for the line,”there’s no place like home.” It’s just so true. Of course, one never knows just how much they love home until they move away. At least that’s how it was for me. That’s why this next song made my summer music playlist. I can remember coming home to visit my parents and my dad blasting this song on repeat FOR HOURS AND HOURS in the garage. The funniest thing was that no one complained. In fact, there were many times that I caught family members singing along!

“Heaven” by Los Lonely Boys came out in the summer of 2004. I was in my late 20s, married with one child…and I was pretty much anything but hip. But there’s something about this song that just makes you feel cool–regardless of age. “Heaven,” written by a trio of brothers from Texas, captures a laid back summer vibe with its infectious chorus. Peaking at No. 16 on the Billboard Top 100, the tune went on to No. 1 on the adult contemporary charts for 16 weeks. Interestingly enough, the song also registered on the country music charts, too. The song eventually led to two Grammy nominations and one win in 2005. Their biggest hit to date, this song set the tone for so many that summer.

It doesn’t take much for me to remember that afternoon at my parent’s house. It’s always a party when we visit! Lots of family, food and laughter. I can still see my son (a toddler at the time) working his dance moves outside in the garage with my dad. Whenever I hear “Heaven” it puts a smile on my face and I am grateful for both summer and a place to call home!

Up Next: SONG 7…”That’s when I had most of my fun….”

Parents’ Guide to the ULTIMATE 80s Summer (Your Kids Will Thank You)

Posted on May 31, 2019 by hymningandhaing

Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it. –Ferris Bueller, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

So, I’m thinking about putting my current mommy neuroticism on hold for just a bit and going with the flow this summer. Way? WAY! You see I was totally inspired (that’s “totes” inspired for you millennials) the other day by this clever blog about creating a ’70s style summer for ours kids. While I could absolutely relate to the writer’s top 10, the bulk of my childhood actually took place in the 80s…complete with jams, jelly shoes, Hypercolor t-shirts, mix-tapes and some of the best movies/television EVER! Thinking about that place in time brings back memories of super rad summers…chillin’ with choice family and friends, no grody schedules bringing us down, livin’ it up with totally tubular fashion, and maxing out with non-stop gnarly fun 🙂 Back then we turned our nose up at bogus rules and wigged out parents that just didn’t understand the 80s way of life. Dudes and dudettes, the 80s were BOSS and wouldn’t it be totally righteous of me to share those good times with my kiddos? Agreed? Cool beans.

Rockin’ the 80s look!

Here’s my take on the ULTIMATE 80s summer. Grab your shades, fetch your fingerless gloves, style that hair sky-high…and prepare for AWESOME. It’s going to be a tripendicular good time…major.

Wear what you want…how you want. Have you seen some of the styles from the 80s? Hideous, sure, but fun and unique every time. I don’t remember my folks saying, “cover up” or “that’s too revealing” because in the 80s it was about funky layers and mismatched everything. So Mom didn’t do laundry last night? Whatever, kid…you’re living in the 80s now and your faded gym shorts look good with that yellow button down shirt…just remember to pair it with your converse sneakers and a backwards ball cap. K-RAD.
Watch TV…a lot of TV…actually the same shows over and over. Back in the day nothing new came out in the summer on television. It was rerun city, baby, and I LOVED IT! I didn’t mind hitting the couch, remote in hand and settling in for rerun episodes of Three’s Company, The Facts of Life and Family Ties. So you’re replaying them during the show’s regular time slot? Still must see TV for me! Get hooked on my mom’s soap operas…there’s nothing else on, why not? HBO is showing Sixteen Candles for the third time today? I’m glued anyway. While I’m not on board with letting my kids get hooked on soaps, I see no harm in letting them binge watch some retro goodies like Boy Meets World, The Sandlot and Goonies. Excellent!
Drink Kool-Aid ALL DAY and eat your weight in Popsicles. They always tell you to stay hydrated…especially in the heat of summer. I know it sounds like a lot of sugar (and it is,) but that doesn’t mean anything to the 80s kid. Orange Kool-Aid (same color and “flavor” as juice) was perfectly acceptable at breakfast with a bowl of cereal and toast. The punch version was a staple at every birthday party I ever attended. Lemonade Kool-Aid was just as good as fresh-squeezed and PINK lemonade Kool-Aid was the beverage of choice for the uppity, preppie set. When you’re not sucking down this sugar-water, head on over to the freezer for a frozen treat. Popsicles are inexpensive and unless you want to risk brain freeze, they can kill a lot of time. Hands down…there is nothing like working on a grape popsicle while sitting on your front porch during a scorching hot, summer day, my friends. Go ahead, kiddos, enjoy (to the max!)
Sunglasses are a must…even indoors and ESPECIALLY at night. That’s right. Wear your shades, like all the time! Your specs speak volumes about who you are and what you stand for…sporty, goofy, cool and if you can pull off the flip-up sunglasses look…all the better! The coolest kids I knew during childhood had a pair for every day of the week (probably mallrats.) So come on kiddos, grab your plastic eyewear of choice and get your spec-tacular summer started.
Baseball and sunflower seeds. This pretty much sums up my existence during my childhood summers. This duo provided evening entertainment as well as a pseudo dinnertime meal. In the 80s we didn’t have all the fancy flavors they do now…we ate our salted sunflower seeds until our lips were swollen and we lost all feeling in our tongue. When we were done…we begged for more! This vicious cycle is never so appealing as when we’re camped out at the baseball diamond. Sure, you have those who prefer peanuts siting in the stands, but nothing really fills a hole (or maybe burns one in your throat) quite like sunflowers seeds. Bonus points on your 80s summer if you can score some Astro Pops at the ball park (those bad boys look soooo much cooler than they taste!)
The Astro Pop 🙂
Stargazing…oh, yeah. I can’t remember if we borrowed the telescope or if it was just handed down to us, but either way we were the luckiest kids on the block (even if we didn’t really know how to use the silly thing!) We spent countless nights outside on our back porch just checking out the moon and trying to spot planets among the stars. We looked for constellations and laid flat on the picnic table in our yard to take in all the night sky’s wonders. It was peaceful and totally stellar at the same time. Come on kids, put down your technology and open your eyes to something so much better! Shooting stars and meteor showers are just as mind-blowing today as they were in the 80s.
Brush up on your gaming skills, dude. No, I’m not talking about video games…I’m talking about real games…as in the type you gather around a table to play! Growing up in the 80s we took our games pretty seriously. Bragging rights were always at stake, occasionally money was involved, and sometimes a stupid dare was the prize. Either way, we played to win. All night Monopoly games, vicious games of Sorry and Battleship, and my favorite–card games. Nothing says summer like a knock down game of Spoons! This is definitely on my list for this summer. My kiddos need to learn this throw back game and maybe even how to throw a few elbows in the process…I said we play to win, remember.
Fun…on the cheap, duh. Ahhh, yes…the 80s were a good decade for America. As kids, most of us didn’t know that we were average middle class and that was okay. We didn’t expect new cars, designer clothes or the latest gadget. We were content with simple things and made the most of our days with basic, cheap fun. For example, we grew up without Supersoakers and Nerf water guns. The sprinkler and the garden hose provided all the fun we needed. Water balloon ambushing an unsuspecting friend walking into the backyard was good for a million laughs. I can remember neighborhood water wars…and when our rinky-dink water guns weren’t enough to win the battle we repurposed 2 liter soda bottles to soak each other to the bone. Make-shift water games and activities are the absolute best…and my kiddos have already started creating their own water fun with friends this summer. No pool required. For added inexpensive fun, check out free zoos (yes, they do exist,) state parks and road side attractions. You have not lived until you’ve had your photo taken with an extreme size, concrete animal or the world’s largest something or other! Homebodies can make a whole mess of fun with a good, old-fashioned watermelon feed…complete with seed-spitting contest. Go ahead, invite the neighbors.
Summer music playlist…for sure. In the 80s, a mix-tape took time and skill…and usually involved a pretty hip friend. Getting the hook-up on the latest songs sometimes meant that you had to listen to the radio and quickly hit the record button when your favorite jam came on. I remember countless tapes where I missed the first few beats of a song, you could hear the commercials or maybe even a little of the the DJ talking (pretty amateurish, I now, but whatevs.) I also remember the awesome feeling that came with getting a “real” mix tape, where someone with an elaborate music collection or DJ skills put together only the best. Rockin’ out in your bedroom with your boom box full blast…there’s nothing quite like it. A close second would be toolin’ around town with your Walkman in tow. Poolside fun requires just the right set of jams, too! When we were old enough to cruise Main Street the perfect mix tape could make or break the night. Today’s kiddos love music just as much and here’s where their technology could actually come in handy. With the swipe of a finger, kids can create their own, FREE summer music playlists or tap into ready-made lists on music streaming services like Spotify, Amazon Prime Music or Pandora. It amazes me just how much 80s music they already know thanks to pop culture, but the best part is when I pull up the old music videos for them to see with their own eyes! Thank you, YouTube. Let’s just say it’s good for a lot of laughs 🙂

So take a chill pill and relax. After all, savoring summer isn’t privy to just one decade. We can all take part in this bodacious ride! Summertime is where we write some of our best stories. It’s where we create many of our favorite memories and cement those relationships we will always treasure. This is where best friends are made, family road trips take place, where crushes and first loves are experienced and we collectively have a chance to breathe and reset. Take in the warm temperatures, go places you’ve never been, laugh a lot and when you run out of things to do–start the list all over. The rules are different in the summer…and the 80s rules…well they just RULE! Parents, say hello to what just might be your best summer yet. Totally (to the max.)

The question isn’t “what are we going to do,” the question is “what aren’t we going to do?”–Ferris Bueller, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Lest We Forget

Posted on September 11, 2018 by hymningandhaing

I was not anywhere near the tragedies of 9-11…at least not physically. We watched the events unfold on television while sitting on a couch in our tiny apartment on a seminary campus just north of San Francisco. Like most of the country, we sat dumbfounded. No one spoke. Everyone cried, including my newborn son. It was a lot to take in. Clearly the world had changed. I’m certain I will never forget that day…and yet I do. We all do. It slips in and out of our thoughts as we Americans seek routine and demand normalcy. And then, we remember again.

My mother-in-law, Karen, woke us up with the news that day. Given the three-hour difference between New York and California, my husband and I were still sleeping. Karen was helping to care for our newborn son (she had been up feeding the baby) and held him in her arms when she came into the bedroom. I remember her voice, mostly a whisper, saying, “You have to see this,” as she ushered us into the next room. It didn’t take but a moment for us to realize that this was not good news. Over the next few hours we watched news coverage of our country being attacked. Like a bad movie, it all seemed so surreal as report after report showed one plane crash and then another and another. Time stood still.

Eventually, there were phone calls. Lots of phone calls. While the East Coast was under attack, it didn’t take long for family and friends to try to reach out to one another…making sure everyone was accounted for. Living in the Bay Area, it occurred to us that San Francisco could easily be on a target list. I tried to put it out of my mind, but looking at my baby, Sean, I remember thinking THIS WASN’T THE PLAN! If you know me, you know I have these random (and possibly irrational) thought outbursts. Sean and I had already been through a bumpy pregnancy, a scary delivery, followed by two hospital stays and he wasn’t even two weeks old yet. I cried. What kind of a world was this?

Panic is an interesting emotion. It builds upon itself and opens the door to sadness, fear and anger. Nothing seemed right. Immediately, I prayed for those at the scene. I prayed that there would be survivors. I prayed that help would arrive on time. I prayed for justice. I worried about kids who were at schools and people on the freeway trying to get home. I especially prayed for those in the air. Eventually, we learned that Steve’s uncle’s flight was diverted to Canada. My mother informed me that large passenger planes had been forced to land at the small airport in the tiny, Kansas town where I grew up. Everyone was on heightened alert. And this is where we stayed emotionally, not just for the day…but for days and days which eventually stretched into weeks.

There is another memory that I will forever carry with me about this particular time in our nation’s history. On the way to church the next week, there were armed soldiers on the Golden Gate Bridge. Dozens of them. The beauty of this national landmark and the breathtaking scenery surrounding it took a backseat to the reality of life in the United States at that moment. My heart sank. Would it always be like this? Could we find our way back? Would anything ever be the same? I know I was not alone in asking these questions. Yet, it’s at times like these where we find our faith and ultimately our strength. That Sunday we praised, prayed and sang to an all-powerful, loving God. This, I will always want to remember.

America is a great nation, founded on wonderful principles that continue to fill its people with a sense of pride and purpose. Our country rallied. We made plans, sought out ways to ensure the safety of our people, and moved forward. Some would say that THIS IS the American way. The days since have not always been easy. The threat of terrorism has become the new normal. And we’ve had to adjust. The world is different and we are different. A swell of nationalism permeated every part of our country during those times. Many laid aside their differences as we came together in prayer and resolve. In the following months and years much was sacrificed to apprehend those responsible for this unbelievable tragedy. The events of that one day dramatically affecting every part of American life.

Unfortunately, in the years since the attack we have seen that sense of unity erode. Nowadays, America is known for its political infighting. Activists of all kinds have sought to divide the people in countless ways. Those spewing hate have managed to turn neighbors against one another. Agendas have created word wars and many have been hurt…even killed. All of this within our own borders while the threat of terrorism still looms large. I hate what happened to our country on 9-11, but in remembering the tragedy itself we can find hope. Today (on the anniversary,) in every way and shape imaginable WE REMEMBER. Today, at every turn we recall the significance of this day and remember the lives lost. Today, we seek to honor and recognize the true heroes among us. Today, social media is filled with symbolism and pride as we cannot and will not forget what has happened. Surprisingly, I find comfort in this type of remembering.

I’m certain I will never forget that day…and yet I do. We all do. It slips in and out of our thoughts as we Americans seek routine and demand normalcy. And then, we remember again…lest we forget.

9-11 Timeline

When pain is to be borne, a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more than all. –C.S. Lewis

“Eye” Opening (A Lesson in Perspective)

Posted on May 20, 2018 by hymningandhaing

The fingerprints of God are often invisible until you see them in the rearview mirror. -Levi Lusko

It had been a long season…one of more “downs” than “ups.” Sometimes life is like that. They say that a mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child…and, wow, do I get that now. Still, I held out hope (even if it was just the tiniest glimmer.) I had been looking forward to this day, a day where we could all unceremoniously start a new chapter. It had arrived…without fanfare and without jubilation. Only numbness and fatigue.

I had gotten so used to the old pattern, the barely breathing pattern where the emotions were so close to the surface that it was practically a miracle if no one noticed. The questions still resounded in my head, “if only…could I have…and what if?” Pointless questions really. I had gone over them a thousand times in my mind. Day after day. I prayed. And I kept praying. I trusted that the lesson would reveal itself. Maybe. Someday.

In the quietness of that afternoon I found myself searching out a needle and thread. Crossing a “finish line” meant that I could now tend to things that I had put off. The scattered stuffing of the basement tiger could no longer be set aside. I asked, “Don’t you think it’s time we got rid of this? Maybe it’s time to throw the tiger away….” No. It was a gift. It was still useful. It was a part of the family. In reality, it was huge, it had a hole, it was getting stuffing EVERYWHERE.

When I finally found the sewing supplies I needed, I headed downstairs. Needle in hand I realized that I forgot to bring my reading glasses. “There’s no way you’ll be able to thread the needle without them,” the voice in my head noted. Uggghh. I tried any way. Nope. Tried again. Ain’t happenin’. On the third attempt I adjusted my perspective. Moving the needle in front of the golden belly of the tiger changed the background just enough…allowing me to focus. Suddenly the eye that had eluded me stood out clear as day. The black thread easily went through. Victory. (I needed that.)

I stitched up the stuffed tiger and ran my fingers over its new battle scar. Not bad. For the most part, the new stitches were practically undetectable…that is until the last few. Probably where the hole started, I thought. Damaged faux fur, but totally fixable. With the right perspective…totally fixable.

For I know the one in whom I trust. And I am sure that He is able. 2 Timothy 1:12

Rated “M” for Mature (Or Maybe Just “O” for Old)

Posted on May 31, 2017 by hymningandhaing

We age not by years, but by stories. ― Maza-Dohta

There’s a big difference between “growing up” and “growing old.” Each process garnering its own tension (and with any luck,) eventually leading to some sense of solace and peace. Still it seems that in today’s culture, “growing old” is definitely the greater evil. In fact, I listened to a podcast recently that basically laid out just how taboo aging has become (I realize the mere mention of the word “podcast” clearly ages me as well!) Let’s face it, at 40something I’m way past the “growing up” stuff. So I guess this just leaves me mired in the murkiness of “growing old.” Sigh.

Honestly though, I’m finding more happiness than heartbreak with each passing year. It’s not necessarily fun watching the wrinkles and the gray hairs appear, but mentally and spiritually I feel like I’m in a good space. A place I wouldn’t trade for being a teenager again (I’m still apologizing to my mother.) And as tempting as it sounds, going back to my college years just doesn’t appeal to me as much as it used to. They say you’re only as young/old as you feel. And as a self-proclaimed “old soul,” I figure I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Still, crossing onto the other side of the BIG 4-0, I strongly believe I’ve gained some insight. While I haven’t exactly reached curmudgeon status (I’m working on it,) I certainly classify myself as “old enough to know better,” “wise enough not to fall for that” (again,) and filled with enough “I told you so” stories to write a “how-NOT-to guide.” Hopefully this makes me “M” for Mature, but more realistically, most would just rate me “O” for Old. Still, I will not be deterred. So whether you asked for it or not, let me drop a little wisdom here…because I just might know something. Perhaps even something worth sharing….

There’s nothing like sleeping in your own bed. As a kid, I hated going to sleep. I thought it was a huge waste of time. Add to that my overactive imagination, frequent nightmares, and night owl tendencies…and it becomes clear that sleep was not high on my priority list–EVER. Still, I have really come to value the power of a good night’s sleep. I especially appreciate sleeping in my own bed. To be honest, I have a really hard time sleeping anywhere else. Something about MY pillows and MY blankets. This is a safe haven. No TV in the bedroom. No scrolling through Facebook or watching Netflix in bed for me. When my head hits the pillow, I’m out. Beautiful, peaceful and restorative slumber…in my own bed. I’m all about it!
Moisturizer is your best friend. I have always made it a priority to take care of my skin. Never EVER sleeping in make-up (especially mascara!) Always wearing sunscreen (something I had to learn the hard way after acquiring a horrible sunburn while working a car wash fundraiser in high school. Ewww…blisters.) I’m a Noxema girl and a sucker for its eucalyptus scent. A family member suggested wearing night cream as well as day cream after college graduation. Great advice…I am eternally grateful (so is my skin.)
“Respond more. React less.” Not my quote, but a great little ditty nonetheless. Basically, the idea is that we take a moment to process a situation, instead of just going off on someone. In a world where every feeling is justified for its mere existence, there is something to be said about thoughtfulness. Look, I’m not talking about being a spineless, doormat…instead let’s hash out our feelings before we broadcast them. It could save face and maybe even some stress and heartache. “When we respond, rather than react, we actually communicate from our highest principles and deepest desires. Reactions on the other hand, come straight from our most shallow anxieties and fears.” –Hal Runkel
Be generous. It’s such a human tendency to want to keep things for ourselves. Some of us do it out of greed or maybe even fear. Others can’t let go of things because of guilt. We all have our own reasons, but I have found that generosity is its own reward. And it’s important to remember that giving isn’t necessarily limited to money either. Being generous is about a willingness to offer time, energy, attention, advice…the list could go on and on. Putting others above yourself is Biblical and a little goes along way!
Seek out healing people and places. There’s no substitute for peace. As a twenty something I remember meeting a woman who absolutely made the hairs on my arm stand on end! She was an older woman, polite and wonderful with kids, so when this gut feeling struck…I had no real explanation for it. In fact, I felt guilty every time the feeling came on. After some time, I was able to figure out exactly what was going on. She had an energy that just didn’t jibe with mine. Her jumpy, antsy disposition made me feel anxious. Her energy level actually drained mine. It wasn’t about judgement, we remained friendly, however it was just a gentle reminder for me (all of us) to seek out people who lift us up, people who help us to be our best self, and whose company is soothing to the soul. You don’t have to be BFFs with everyone on the planet.
Look deeply. This is a new one for me. An idea that has just become very important to me in the last year or so. You see, my kids are growing so fast. As hard as it is to believe, they actually change in some ways every single day. This is exciting and completely terrifying! They say “don’t blink” and wow, that has never been more true. The idea of looking deeply extends past my children, too. Sometimes I walk in my front door and just stare at my living room (piles of kid shoes, backpacks everywhere, bulky baseball/softball bags, etc.) and realize I am blessed. Sometimes I chase down the “deer moon” on a summer night (ask my kids about that one!) Often, I take photographs of seemingly mundane things just because I don’t want to forget the moment. If you catching me staring at you…please consider it a compliment!
The grass is never greener. I know that’s not exactly how the idiom goes, but it’s the truth. I cannot think of one time when this has EVER panned out. I’m not into comparing myself to others. I don’t want what you have, I’m too busy to play that game. It’s not healthy and it will get you absolutely no where. Don’t get me wrong, this is a tough one. The green-eyed envy monster is for real. And it will wreck your day (and even your life) if you let it.
You can say “no.” They never tell you this. From the time we’re babies, people are always telling us “no.” “No” you can’t have that, “no” you can’t touch that, “no” can’t do that either. But no one ever tells us that we can say “no,” too. “No” I don’t have to go along for the ride. “No” I don’t have to sacrifice my well-being and happiness just to appease you. “No” your choices don’t have to be my choices. You get the picture.
Laugh often. I love sitcoms and comedies. I honesty live to laugh. I also have a strange sense of humor and value sarcasm. Just a look or an odd phrase will have me in giggles. “Smiling really is my favorite” (ELF.) It probably helps that I’m easily amused. Life really is too short not to spend a good chunk of it laughing. It’s a funny world we live in…seek out your own joy. And when you can’t find anything to laugh about…laugh at yourself. It’s humbling and good for the soul.
God is everywhere. “Life in real-time is messy. The fingerprints of God are often invisible until you look at them in the rearview mirror.” Levi Lusko is the author of this quote and it has really shaped how I view the world. At 42, I already know that God is all around us…what a blessing it is to purposefully seek out His presence on a daily basis. It sounds lofty and maybe even hard to do, but it’s possible and so incredibly rewarding. The more we tune our spirit into seeking out His hand, the easier it becomes to discern His handiwork.

None of us can turn back time (although I’m willing to spend a small fortune trying-lol!) And while the world is telling us that 40 is the new 30, I’m not so sure I buy it…at least not wholeheartedly. I can’t help but think of so many who exemplify aging gracefully and I just pray that I can grab a little bit of that for myself…all labels aside (especially “O.”)

Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness. Proverbs 16:31

Shout Out to Other Mothers (THANK YOU!)

Posted on May 13, 2017 by hymningandhaing

MOMS. Because not all superheroes wear capes! -author unknown

WOW.

In case you didn’t know it, that’s MOM upside down!

Okay, all kidding aside, WOW is the only word that comes to mind for me this Mother’s Day. I’m not sure what made this year’s holiday different, but I feel very compelled to give a huge shout out to other mothers today. I feel like belting out a great big THANK YOU…complete with song and dance (not to mention a few hugs!) But mostly, I just want you all to know that I see you and I really just couldn’t do this mothering thing without you.

Some have said that being a mother is the most important job on the planet. Something along the lines of “the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.” And there’s plenty more sayings out there to describe motherhood (and, believe it or not, most of them are favorable!) Still there’s nothing like being deep in the parenting trenches to remind you that you cannot do this alone. We need each other…sometimes desperately. I need you to be my eyes and ears, I need you to catch my kids doing good AND to give me the heads up when they make poor decisions. I need you to double-check our kids whereabouts and sleepover plans with me…because communicating in the tween/teen years can be difficult and responsibility/accountability are crucial. I need you to share advice and help me navigate through tough situations. And I need you to be loving examples, safe places, and trusted adults whom my kids can turn to, if needed. And I promise to do the same…because motherhood is an interesting club. It’s not necessarily hard to join (although I’m sensitive to the fact that it can be.) There’s no pre-mom exam. No age limit. No “green light.” Some of us fit in from the get go. Others clamor to get in. Some of us enter hesitantly, if not reluctantly. Many of us trudge through. And some of us never quite find our place. Regardless, once you’re in…YOU’RE IN. And there’s no guarantee of success in this club. There’s no real manual. No graduation. And sometimes, in spite of the numbers, it can be a pretty lonely place. I can’t speak for everybody, but for myself I can honestly say I had no idea what I was getting into. Albeit the oldest of four, growing up in a very large extended family, having countless hours of babysitting under my belt and with a “mother hen” type personality…I never felt like I was ready. In fact, during my teen years and early twenties, I was pretty dead set against becoming a mother. I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that I wasn’t up for the task. At age 26, my son was born…and while this was a well thought out and planned event I still knew on some level that I had no idea what I was in for (despite all my research)–and I was right!

We all know that our bodies change when we have a child. Hormones fluctuate, things shift, etc., but what happens to your heart has to be the most remarkable, extraordinary change of all! While the other changes occur over a matter of months, it seems that your heart changes almost immediately. Your priorities change, your instincts change, your thought processes change…basically, what I’m trying to say here is that EVERYTHING changes. What I was really least prepared for was the general roller coaster ride of motherhood. The wins and the losses. The ups and the downs. I’m pretty much a planner (and a bit of a control freak) and motherhood is everything but a well-defined plan and you can throw any hope of control out the window. Plan A quickly moves through the alphabet to Plan Z, and in no set pattern. What works one day (and for one child) quickly falls to the wayside in lieu of something completely different for another child (or the same kiddo down the road.) Uggghhh.

Photo of a soccer birthday cake (or at least what’s left of one) that a sweet “other mother” made for my son on his 15th birthday.

So for all this (and so much more) I continue to look to you, fellow mothers. Without other mothers, I’m not sure where I would be. I’m grateful to have my own mother to serve as an example and a guide. Grateful for a mother-in-law who offers love and encouragement. Grateful for a sister, who lovingly mothers all the nieces and nephews and her own stepkids with a natural mothering gift. I’m grateful for sister-in-laws who treat my kids like their own. And I’m especially grateful for the mothers of my children’s friends, the “church” moms, the “teacher” moms, the “neighbor” moms and other mothers in my community. You all ROCK! BIG thanks for your kind hearts, for the rides to and from practices/games, for the driving them through the fast food line and including them in your family plans. Thank you for the birthday cakes, countless sleepovers, day trips and shopping excursions. Thanks for bridging the gap when our family schedules were overloaded. Thank you for sharing photos of my kids and yours just doing their thing. Thank you for the “Walmart Updates.” Thank you for not judging them harshly, for understanding that they are in a unique circumstance (as are most kids) and for offering them grace and love. Thank you for including them in your family life. And thank you for your example…often times it’s your own mothering actions that speak volumes.

So let’s forget the mom-shaming, the parenting peer pressure, and all the other nonsense. And instead, keep breathing life and love into each other’s kiddos. Keep talking, keep texting, keep cheering, keep showing up and keep vigilant. Please continue to keep your eyes open…looking out for my kids and others. Thank you for filling my ears (and heart) with bright spots that you see in my children. I see the same bright spots in your kiddos, too!

We truly are on each other’s team. Happy, happy Mother’s Day!

She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. Proverbs 31:25

In These Desperate Times

Posted on March 23, 2017 by hymningandhaing

Are we not all desperate one way or another? Taylor Caldwell, author

The funny thing about standing on the edge is that there’s typically little to no warning that you’re about to go over. No countdown. No alert system. I usually only realize that I’ve arrived at this point when one foot is dangling and the other is making every crazy attempt to stay planted. It’s a dance I’ve seen countless times and one that I’m not proud of.

Lately, this idea of desperation has been rearing its ugly head in all kinds of places. I see it everywhere–in my home, overheard at the grocery store, on television/radio, it’s become a mainstay on social media, I hear it in the voices of my closest loved ones and it even stares back at me from the bathroom mirror. It’s become practically inescapable and totally overwhelming. And it appears to be the new norm.

What I hate most about desperation is that it clouds decision-making, muddies our sense of right and wrong, and worst of all causes us to say/do things we (should) almost immediately regret (although that’s not always the case.) And “desperation” has become so incredibly clever. Nowadays, it masks itself as “urgency,” “FoMO” (fear of missing out) and even “self-righteousness”…often times creating an anxiety that holds us captive. This type of desperation not only leaves us hopeless but it creates fear, anger, and sadness. Desperation puts us in situations we could have never imagined…poisoning ourselves and everything around us. Numb and cowering like a defenseless animal, we can only respond by lashing out at one another or internalizing our darkest fears. When these feelings reach their peak, one is left feeling incredibly alone. And yet, we keep coming back to the same well. Doing the same things. Repeating this frantic pattern over and over.

Where is the faith, the peace, the hope? As a Christian, I think it’s in the same place it’s always been–Jesus. I’ve noticed that as our culture continues to distance itself from God…the only truly content people I can find are those who consider themselves followers of Christ. In fact, one of the reasons I was so drawn to Christianity was the sense of peace that Jesus offers. Picture the most devout person you know and I’m willing to bet that person just exudes peace. Shining, content, grace-filled peace…in abundance. The kind of peace we hope to capture for ourselves.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that peace is elusive…only attainable after years of practice. We’ve been told that peace is for the enlightened, those who have achieved some higher level learning. We’ve been advised that peace is for the naive. And we’ve been warned that peace simply cannot exist. And I think that’s exactly what the world wants us to believe.

There are no quick answers here, only prayer. Distancing ourselves from desperation requires discipline and personal growth. I imagine it’s a lifelong endeavor, but one well worth every effort. I refuse to drink from the world’s cup and fall prey to these desperate times. I will continue to seek out those whose grace-filled examples serve as encouragement and inspiration. And I fully plan to surround myself with only His perfect peace.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

hymningandhaing

balancing faith, family & a few dozen other things on the yellow brick road

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