I'm Too Old

Have you heard this before, "I'm too old to care about being polite"? Or something along those lines.

What is that really? Too old? So what you're telling me is that you never were polite on the inside, but you were young enough to know better at one point and were only behaving yourself? I find myself being acquainted with a certain person who is aging. I had a deep respect for their business mind, character, and integrity. I would talk with them at length about such dealings and would listen intently. But true to my form, I am an observer of people and life in general. I watch an awful lot. And I have seen a steady decline in the moral fiber of this person of business I once admired.

It seems as if they have reached a point in their life where they would say, "I'm too old to do the right thing or treat people well." So the question I'm asking is this, was it all a farce? Do we spend our lives covering up who we really are inside to only have our true selves revealed in our senior years when we are just too old to care what others think?

Will I be one of those that when they are too old to care about being proper and upright, will be unkind to a care giver because I feel entitled to a certain level of care? Will the internal flaws I deal with now surface in the years when I want people to look at me and say "She's a wise, sweet old lady and I like her spunk." Or will they walk away shaking their head thinking they never knew the real me, call me a hypocrite, see my true colors and wonder why they wasted the time.

Maybe that's why I am so adamant about being authentic, real and a teller of truth. Sharing my struggles (to a degree) with others. I figure if I struggle with something, then maybe someone else may too and my sharing could help them. I'm kind of at a loss in all this. It's come as a blow really.

Maybe when we try to show outwardly who we want to be in our own strength and power we can only keep that up for so long and then the steam runs out. Maybe it's when we surrender those struggles to God with the idea that He's the only one that can work on us to making lasting change that is real instead of change made in our humanity. Or if you allow the work to happen at a younger age, then it just becomes a part of who you are, part of your DNA.

I don't want to ever reach a point in my life where treating people well is something I don't care about. Where having integrity is a chore. I want that to be woven so deeply within me that this won't be something I will have to question. It will just be.

Air Smooches

When this photo was taken my son, C was 12. I remember trying to freeze this moment in my memory. He chose the spot and how we would stand. I loved that moment. He's almost 13 now and I could fill a book with all the wonderful qualities this budding young man possesses. You can see it on his face. Strong, confident, secure, loving. What you see is what you get. He wears his emotions and thoughts out there in the open. And at this point in time he's still not tainted enough by the world that he hides who he is. I hope he never loses that.

He still comes to me for hugs every morning. He'll even reach over and put his hand on my shoulder when we're driving somewhere. He comes up behind me when I'm cooking and wraps those long arms around my waist for a quick squeeze. When I'm keeping score for his baseball team, he'll walk over to the fence, lace his fingers through the chain link on top of mine and ask me the score or what inning we're in. Even walking through parking lots, he'll sidle up beside me and grab my hand. He definitely shows his love openly.

This morning when I was dropping him off at school he saw one of his buddies. "Look mom, there's Mikah!", he said excitedly. As I came to a stop he whipped out of the van, flung his back pack on, slammed the door and jogged away toward his friend. When I was about to pull away I heard him yell, "MOM!" I looked back just as he sent me an air smooch "... LOVE YOU!"

Awww C... I love you too buddy.

Tree of Irritation

Pretend there's a tree in my front yard.

This tree has been here since before I owned the house. In fact, when I moved in, the previous owner told me that the tree had been there since he bought the house and that was a full 40 years. This tree has been around a good while. But there's a problem. It doesn't grow. It never gets any taller or thicker. It does not leaf out in the spring, it does not exchange carbon dioxide for oxygen and it does not produce any kind of fruit. It doesn't perform any of the tasks a tree is supposed to perform. And yet... it remains in my yard, highly visible for all to see.

Each day I leave my house, I see this tree that does not live up to its potential and I find myself starting the day irritated. There must be something this tree needs so that it can grow, thrive, flourish. I need this tree to see in itself what its possibilities are. So I decide to make a concerted effort to talk to the tree, invest time in it by pulling weeds, making sure the soil is just right, giving it living rain water instead of chemically treated water, researching exactly the right kind of food it needs to really take off. I have set aside my irritation with the idea that if I work with this tree, it will begin to function as a working part of my yard. I will give it the love and time it needs so that it will see that I value it and that it can be a part of a really great yard that others will want to visit and maybe grow in the same way.

Everything is lined up. I have crossed every "T" and dotted every "I" so this tree has the best chance of not only growing, leafing out, exchanging gases and producing fruit, but becoming beautiful as well. But as I spend time with the tree, giving it everything it needs I notice that it's still not growing, still not changing. It is still irritating me that the conditions are optimal for growth and it's not happening.

You see, the tree has existed all these years in the same state. It grew to a certain point and then stopped. It was content with being small. It had no reason to get bigger. It had no desire to entertain the new idea of leafing and producing fruit. It had no desire to learn how to take a gas that can suffocate and turn it into life giving air for those around it. In fact, the tree took more time and energy than it ever gave back.

There comes a time in life when it can become necessary to yank out this life-sucking, time-sucking, non-fruit-producing, irritating tree. Give it the freedom to find another yard to be stagnant and toxic in. My energy is better spent with the trees and plants that want to grow, that are open to new ways of growing and readily entertain the idea that how they've always been shown to grow may have worked in the past, but time brings new intelligence, new understanding and if my plants are open to me helping them, they have the ability to reach their full potential along with all the other plants.

I need to do some time investing and pruning and plucking and nourishing and talking and loving. I need to make sure that the things in my life, regardless of how long they've been there, are the things that will help me reach my full potential and hopefully I'll bring others who are willing along with me.

The Wisdom of Marilla

Anne of Green Gables has been a movie I have cherished since High School. It's a story of a young orphan girl that is adopted by an elderly brother and sister. Through a series of verbal exchanges though, the information was skewed and instead of them getting a boy to help on the farm like they had requested, they got Anne. Upon finding out that Marilla planned on sending her back because she wasn't a boy, Anne replies "I'm in the depths of despair." to which Marilla's responds, "To despair is to turn your back on God." The meaning didn't stick with me so much as the memory of the exchange between them.

Yesterday, I found myself in a state of despair. I found myself in a situation very similar to Anne where I had been anticipating an event for months with every fiber of my body. I could not wait for it to happen. I had made all the necessary preparations to be there at the exact time, with the proper materials, I was eager. I waited... for almost an hour. And as I resigned myself to the fact that no one was coming I trudged slowly out to the parking lot. My heart was heavy and disappointed. And the tears began to roll. I wasn't actually crying, but my body was weeping. Big, fat, hot tears slid down my cheeks as I closed myself in my vehicle. The silence was deafening. And I thought, "I'm in the depths of despair." However, I am highly realistic and reminded myself that this was nothing that warranted that description. Maybe I wasn't in the depths of despair, but I was despairing. And being a realistic person, I realized the first thing I needed to do was get myself out of the dark parking lot in a not so good part of town and go somewhere where I could process what just happened.

As I drove I ended up turning my focus away from my despair on to what Marilla had said, "To despair is to turn your back on God." What did she mean by that?! If I let myself get into such a state that I'm despairing, I have centered myself more on my issue than where God is in my situation. I am in essence telling God that he can't pull me out of that place. He's not able.  This is more than contrary to what the Bible teaches and what I believe. And so I decided to do the grown up thing and not despair... I sulked.

After doing some searching on my computer I found an email I had neglected to read that informed me that the class I was so eager to attend had been postponed until February 2011. I am no longer sulking, but eagerly looking forward to February.

Lesson learned: read my email. They are important.

A Simple Misunderstanding

It was a day that wasn't quite the norm. I actually got to sleep in. The Hubby had to go to a commitment that morning, so he popped his head in the bedroom, gave a few updates and left. Needless to say, in my groggy state I took what he said and interpreted it differently than intended. I sleepily crawled out of bed.

For the next 2 hours, my irritation with the situation elevated. It never ceases to amaze me that the ghosts from my past can still influence how I see things in the present day. By the time The Hubby came home I was in full fledge anger. True to form, he didn't want whatever was bothering me to last all day, and he prompted a discussion to figure out what had gone so horribly wrong in the short time he had been gone.

Needless to say the discussion was taking place in the kitchen which is at the center of our home. As with some arguments, the level was rising as we tried to get to the bottom of the problem. But what was interesting was the response of our son. My son entered the room first, followed by our daughter. This is pretty true to form, wherever he goes, she is not far behind. Even though I was the one loudly expressing my feelings, our son went straight to me, stood beside me and touched my arm. "What's happening? You guys don't fight. You're always so unified." Yes... he said unified LOL! By this time, this arguement needed a break and a change of perspective. It was a great opportunity to talk to our kids about the realities of marriage.

They may never see us fight, but we do have disagreements from time to time. We spent a lot of time in discussion before we got engaged about various things that could potentially trip up a marriage to make sure we were on the same page. We truly believe that this is one of the main reasons we hardly argue. We do see almost all things eye to eye.

After some time, they understood that just because we were arguing didn't mean we were getting a divorce like some of their friends parents had. This was our way of avoiding that, by talking out our issues rather than letting them build up. But another interesting point from this whole scenario was that our son had come to me even though I was the one being loud with The Hubby. Even though I was the aggressor when he walked in the room, he still came to my defense. If not verbally, than physically. He was literally standing between The Hubby and I as if to protect me from an unpleasant situation.

We talked about that little dynamic after the kids left the room. He puffed out his chest and stated that he would not have it any other way. He is proud of our son for the protection he shows the women in his life. I love to see how words said in passing can stick with these little brains and manifest themselves into very noticeable actions that can make a big impact. We've talked to our son on more than one occasion about his role in the protection of his little sister. But to see him convey that to me was something new.

My little buddy is growing up and understanding so much more than I give him credit for. I think this is just another wake up call for me that I am entering the phase of "less instruction", not "no instruction". He still needs direction at this tender age. I need to watch more, speak less but be continually present and available for those times when I am needed.