Month: May 2017

When I was growing up, I often imagined what my family would look like – you know, once I had a husband and kids of my own.  I pictured a little house on a piece of land, at least two kids, but probably four. Simple things. A fairly common simple life.

The truth is, I think all of us have an innate desire to be part of a family. We want to have people who know us and love us – flaws and all.  Yet, the sad truth is, we can spend so much time searching for what we think family is, that we don’t take the time to appreciate the reality. We look for Hallmark, when the reality is a whole lot grittier than that. So, what does family look like?

 

Last Friday night, I sat in the midst of a large group of people, all waiting to watch one young man walk across a stage and get his diploma.  That group included my best friend of almost 20 years and her family, my sisters, nieces and nephew, brothers-in-law, an ex-brother-in-law, a sister’s boyfriend, my younger sister’s best friend of over 20 years – who is also one of my closest friends, JD’s dad, stepmom, granny, grandpa, aunt and uncle, step grandpa and his wife, a few people from church, and even a couple of band moms and one of their sons (although they weren’t just there for JD).  I had to smile.

This is real life. Real life sometimes isn’t as simple as a husband and four children. Sometimes real life and real family looks like rows of people, holding up cardboard cutouts of your only child’s face, screaming loudly, as 18 years of love, discipline, and growth culminates in a handshake and diploma.

It looks like heartache and redemption. Like sorrow and joy. It looks like celebrating the fact that no matter how differently life turns out than you once had imagined – in some ways it is sweeter than you ever would have wished for.

This is a beautiful life.

 

Twenty years ago today, I remember getting ready to walk out onto the high school football field, and hearing a teacher tell us to look around as this would be the last time we were ever in the same room with all of these people again.  I looked around and saw faces and smiles almost as familiar as my own.  We stood there in that moment in time, ready for the next step.  Honestly, I’m pretty sure I felt sick because I just envisioned myself being the one to trip across the metal stage, and fall flat on my face.  Looking back, I’m sure I couldn’t have been the only person who thought that might be their fate.  ha!  Alas, I did not trip. My name was called, I shook hands, took my rolled up “diploma”, smiled, and made it back to my seat in one piece.  Tassels were moved, caps were thrown…and twenty years passed in the blink of an eye.

I look back now, and in some ways, life seemed much more complicated at 18.  Every decision seemed like the one that would define you – at least it did for me.  It was a time of trying to figure out what the next steps were, and having no clue what my future would look like.  I heard teachers talk during my high school days of how I would one day look back on those days and wish I was once again in those halls.  I really hoped that wouldn’t be true.  Not that I didn’t enjoy high school – just that I didn’t plan to live my life looking back.  So, class of 2017, let me tell you some of my truths:

Life won’t always seem as big as it does now.  Every decision won’t leave you mired with self doubt.  People will eventually stop asking you what you’re going to do with your life.  Then you’ll start asking yourself.  And that’s okay.  You might change careers. Goals. Have kids. A spouse….or two.  Or none.  Maybe you’ll travel. A little of it all. Some of you might make a poor life choice. Don’t count yourself out. People are going to judge you no matter what you do – or who you are. So be exactly who you are meant to be.  On the other hand, some people are going to love you no matter who you are. You’ll be hurt. Times will be hard. You’ll get up. You’ll lie in bed at night and think that you were pretty sure adults are supposed to have it more together than you do. Some nights you might lie there and be in awe at just all that you are able to juggle.  You’ll pat yourself on the back for being a one-man-band, or keeping up with your own three-ring circus.  Then you just might realize you need a day on the couch. You won’t always do the right thing – even if you try. Sometimes you’ll be at a loss for words. You’ll experience more life – and with that, you’ll experience the pain of death. You’ll realize your own mortality, and how fragile life can be – but you’ll also fully realize just how amazingly beautiful life is. And hopefully, you’ll look back and realize that you did some things in those 20 years that stand out far above the memories that echo in the halls of that old high school.

Twenty years later, I sit here and I am two days away from sitting at another graduation.  Young adults will walk in while “Pomp and Circumstance” plays from the band,  and family members will be snapping pictures, waving, and pointing out their child in the line.  Somewhere in that crowd, I will sit there with a smile of pride, and try to just stay in the moment.  I’ll try to put aside nostalgia. I probably won’t be successful. I feel a lump in my throat just thinking about it.  You see, it’s crazy looking back on it – but that night I had no way of knowing that almost exactly 20 years later, I will look out across a new graduating class while my son moves his tassel, throws his cap, and begins……begins a new story. Because truly that really was just the beginning.

Here’s to 1997 Kim – girl you had no way of knowing, but by the 20th anniversary of your graduation, you will have raised a man.  Holy guacamole – what an amazing 20 years it has been.  And it only gets better. This is a beautiful life.

I stood in church today, singing lyrics to a song, and for some reason I thought about the greatest love story I’ve ever known….

From the time I was young, I have always gravitated to romance novels when reading just for fun. It is an interesting quirk about me, as I would tell you that I don’t believe in fairy tales, prefer to not watch romantic movies, and love biographies where people have had strength forged through adversity. I value gritty, down in the trenches kind of stories about people who faced great odds and came out on top. But biographies are my second go-to leisure reading. Romance novels are my first.  I used to be embarrassed about the fact that I enjoyed an epic romance – which typically follows the same pattern: People meet. Go through adversity. End up together. Epilogue.  <—– I’m always disappointed when there isn’t an epilogue.  I don’t even care if the epilogue is two weeks later.  hahaha.  Okay, I digress….

My life has looked less like a romance novel, and more like that gritty biography I value. If my life were a romance novel, I’d have to say right now, we are still in the prologue….and it’s lengthy.  And sometimes hilarious. And sometimes not so funny.

But I stood there today and thought about the greatest LOVE story I’ve ever known.

It’s the story of a woman who has triumphed over tragedy and gained strength through adversity, become confident in who she is, and yet realizes she can’t do it all on her own. It’s about a woman who gets up, meets the world head on, reminds herself of her strength, and yet realizes there is beauty in weakness as well.  It’s a love that in the middle of the night, when worries seem many, burdens are heavy, and rest is hard to find, speaks peace and reminds you of all that you have already seen, and gives you hope for all that is yet to come. It has dried tears. Given shelter. Always pursues. It’s the story of a woman who sometimes still runs – maybe not in ways that others see – but who sometimes still will stop pursuit in fear of failure….yet, it constantly whispers that your trust is not misplaced. Never has been.  Never will be. It doesn’t allow for complacency, but always promotes growth. It’s a love that has shown a woman, who once doubted not her capacity to love, but others’ capacity to love her, and opened her eyes to the hearts of so many who seek only to see her succeed.

I’ve been single a long time. Every now and then, I see a post where someone is encouraging single women (mostly) to wait for the one true love the Lord is sending your way. I try very hard not to roll my eyes, since it is usually married women posting who haven’t been single in a long time.  Ladies and gentlemen, the one thing I can guarantee you is that unless my social media accounts ever get hacked by someone with a strange sense of humor, you will not see me post that. I mean, come on, those words aren’t super helpful when the smoke detector has malfunctioned and you can’t reach it to change it out, so you have to wait for someone to help you….twelve hours later. I’m just being real. And yes, I do look forward to the day when I see if all these years of taking the trash out myself makes me less likely to be grumpy with someone else’s everyday flaws, because I have done all the stuff – big and small – in my life for a long time. I’ve even (finally, as my sisters and closest friends would say), decided maybe I should start praying for that in my life. Someone to laugh with. Do mundane everyday things with. Share life with. But this isn’t about that kind of love.

The truth is – married or single, in a relationship, wanting a relationship, or hoping to the good Lord nobody even ever tries again – there are times and paths in life that you will seemingly walk alone. There will be moments when you wonder if anyone in this exact moment can understand how you feel, much less provide a moment of comfort and peace. I’ve had married friends who felt very lonely. I’ve had single friends who hoped for someone to complete them. I stopped looking for that a long time ago.

You see, I already found a love that completes me. A love that rescued me. A love that whispers “you are more than this moment, flaw, or failure”. A love that sees straight to the very being of who am I and doesn’t find me lacking. Instead finds me settled in exactly who I am and Whose I am.

While I wait for the day when this life is shared with someone else here on earth, I sit here confident in a love that is already found within me. A love that won’t forsake me, walk away, or leave me comfortless. Always pursues. A love that has made me whole.

Psalms 86: 11-13:

Teach me your ways, O Lord! That I may live according to your truth. Grant me purity of heart so that I may honor you. With all my heart, I will praise you O Lord my God. I will give glory to your name forever, for you love for me is great. You have rescued me from the depths of death.

Zephaniah 3:17:

 The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.

Psalms 86:15:

But you, O Lord, are a God of compassion and mercy, slow to get angry, and filled with unfailing love and faithfulness. 

Psalms 37: 

The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall,  for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

And that, y’all, is a great love story. The greatest. Sacrificial. One that never fails. Never gives up. Is always secure. Always protects.

This is a beautiful life.

 

It’s the first of May, and that means Mother’s Day will soon be here.  This month will be a busy one for us because it is also the month that JD graduates high school. There is a lot of emotion around this event – a lot of celebration – and a lot of work.

This morning, I received a text message from JD’s step mom. She is working on something and asked for my input.  It made me think about mothers and their roles in life.  You see, my son has been blessed with a wonderful step mom.  She excels in areas that I don’t, and I believe that JD has had the best of both worlds in the two of us.  In some ways we are very different.  We have different personalities, different things we like to do as hobbies, different ways of looking at things.  But we have one great thing in common – our love for our son.  Yes, I said “our son”.

You see, being a great parent will take being the most unselfish you have ever been – but I believe being a parent or step parent to a child of divorce takes an even greater level of unselfishness.  There are no awards handed out for sharing holidays, birthdays, and major events in a child’s life. There are countless memories made that you aren’t a part of.  You’re only half of your child’s world. You love someone more than anyone else in this world, and you have to be willing to do what is best for them – even when it straight sucks for you.  Yes, I said it – sometimes what is best for a child does not feel like what is best for a parent.

And I can’t even imagine being her.  By default, people seem to downplay the importance of her role.  For some reason people still have a hard time believing that a child can have a wonderful mom and still have a wonderful step mom.  That there doesn’t have to be one or the other.  I don’t have to be absent for her to be involved.  She doesn’t have to be a step monster, because I am in his life.  People ask her questions about other children, and claim she can’t really understand what it’s like to love a child of her own – because she doesn’t have a child of her own.  <—- That never fails to really make me irritated.  So what you’re saying is – because a person didn’t give birth to a child, they can’t love them? Yeah, that’s crap.  When they ask for his mom, they will always look for me…and that is a feeling that would have to be hard.  It would have to be hard to stand there and know all the love, time, effort, financial resources, tears, discipline….you know – all the mom-ing that takes place to raise a child….that you’ve done, and still there some who would claim you don’t know what it’s like to be a “real mom”.

It’s the month of Mother’s Day, and I am thankful for her. When he walks across the stage and accepts his diploma this month, and one day graduates college, when we one day share the role as “mother of the groom”, when we get called “grandma” or “granny” or whatever other name our grandkids will call us, when we stand by and watch as he accomplishes his dreams – I will know.  I will know that he wasn’t just blessed with my love and support, or his dad’s love and support, but he was blessed with her love and support – and while he might look like his dad, or have my smile, he is who is because of her influence and love just as much as anything we have contributed.

I am his mother.  I cried over him. Prayed over him. Wiped his eyes. Held his hand. Disciplined him. Encouraged him. Pushed him. Loved him. She has done all of those same things. Mothers.

Happy Mother’s Day month – to all the mamas who are just doing what they do and unselfishly loving the children their lives have been blessed with.

It’s a beautiful life.