“Yes, said the Son, with her I'll go,
Through all the depths of sin and woe;
And on the cross will even dare
The bitter pains of death to bear.” Spurgeon Sermon
After catching what seemed to be some judging tones when talking about Lance and I’s trip downtown with some friends after our work Christmas party, I may have been just a little thrown off. I wasn’t quite sure how to take it. Sure, we stayed out til two in the morning, hit up three bars, encountered a scuffle as well as someone brandishing their gun but we also laughed a lot, made great memories and enjoyed each other’s company. Our children were well cared for, we had a designated driver (me) and we weren’t engaging in illegal activity. So, although I knew no harm was meant, it still took some time for me to really get past the face value of the statement.
This past week as I have been preparing to celebrate Gideon’s birthday, I have been blessed with opportunities for good memories to be made. We had the group Christmas party for work and our provider dinner at Ruth’s Chris. These events are always in good timing because although I won’t let satan steal my joy and all the happiness that Christmas brings, I feel that I am a bit more emotional when December comes and it doesn’t get much better til March rolls out. It’s a combination of the burn out of cold and flu season at work, the cold, dark, dreary winter days and of course the memories of a son we didn’t get to hold here on earth near long enough. However, both nights this past week(ish), I was able to date Lance and to connect with him in a time where we are so busy, in a time filled with so many emotions. And although we were surrounded by my workmates, it was still somehow just he and I. I’m thankful.
I’m thankful that those same hands that are becoming permanently swollen from practicing jiu jitsu for another way to keep safe are the same hands that wipe my tears away. I’m thankful that those same hands that practice shooting techniques are the same hands that hold mine when we pray. I’m thankful that those same hands that pick up our son or daughter when they are hurt are the same hands that hold me as I lay motionless on Gideon’s birthday sobbing. I’m thankful that because of those hands, when it was time to pray today at church, our daughter came running to grab our hands so we could be joined in prayer because this is what she sees. And I’m thankful that our kids get to see their dad take their mom on a date and they get to see that after God, our relationship comes first. And much like a George W. eulogy, I hope they will see that their father loved me fiercely. I hope they see that dad enjoyed my company, loved to take me out and that we were better people because we lived life together. And yeah, that may include an occasional bar hopping (I like to dance and he likes beer) but it also includes get aways, coffee dates, dinner dates, shopping trips, concerts and musicals because these are things that we love and although we’ve been adults for (many) years now, we still hold on to that playful nature to keep us young(er) but also to keep us together. Without this fun stuff, without this time to break free, life would be so much harder.
Harder indeed. As I laid curled up in his lap, crying, I thought back to what it was like to be naive. When we were planning for Gideon, I never once thought about quitting my job. I actually signed a 3 year contract just prior to him being born. After he was born and I started back to work, I tried taking him to work with me but it was just me in the office and I didn’t have my mom or Lance’s mom like I did with Gabe and I couldn’t get it to work. I had him at the sitter’s that first afternoon back. Then, I never really gave a second thought about working and being a mom and wife. This was life. I grew up with parents who were gone before I left for school, who worked day jobs and came home in the evening hours after school let out. We spent time together in the evening and on the weekends and this was my normal. So with Gideon, we essentially had the same thing. Lance and I both worked 9-5, dropped him at the sitter on the way in, picked him up on the way home and spent our nights and weekends together. And this was fine. This felt good. This felt fine. Until the day it didn’t. Until I realized how much I had missed out on. But we were young and naive. We didn’t know any different and didn’t know any better. Before that day, we were able to sleep on the same schedule, eat meals together, plan for outings much easier. We could say “yes” to Saturday evening birthday parties scheduled 2 weeks in advance. And although we had a newborn with (the worst) colic, there was not the intensity of brain fog that I currently suffer between the hours of 7 and 10 in the morning after working a night shift and not getting to sleep til almost 5 in the morning. We were far less moody and it felt like everything was the way it ought to be. So, as I laid there motionless, I grieved for our son, but also a part of me grieved for those days of naivety. I grieved for the days when I didn’t think twice about “missing out”. Life is different and we think more about our actions and the long term. I want to be there for ALL the moments. I want to spend the hours they are awake being present. I don’t want to settle for 2-3 hours a day and weekends of awake time and togetherness. I want all that I can get. I want field trips and drop off and pick up. I want park days and zoo days and after school Chick-fil-a. I want dance parties and classroom reading and playing babies and holiday parties. But Lord, it’s hard. It’s tiring. It’s rough flipping back and forth, sleeping in shifts, napping for sleep. And still, I think “am I doing enough?” As I opened up and told Lance all that I was thinking and feeling, he echoed my ache. We were smooth sailing then death came and flipped our course. It’s hard being a parent; trying to make the best decisions, trying to do it all, trying not to worry but then we do work where we do. He has seen the worst, I have seen the worst and we both have lived the worst. So yes, every now and then a thought will cross my mind… “did I just smell acetone on your breath? Blow in my face. Do it again.” Does he/she have diabetes? …goodness, is he too small or pale? Could he have diabetes or cancer? Thankfully, these thoughts are fleeting and usually I only struggle with the “are we doing enough” but this is parenting and it is hard. So yeah, every now and then I stay out til 2 with my husband because in this stage in our lives we do more life “side by side” and not “face to face” as we raise two children. We lean on God and we invest in us and lean in on one another because I could not imagine doing this parenting thing alone.
“It is a mercy that our lives are not left for us to plan, but that our Father chooses for us; else might we sometimes turn away from our best blessings, and put from us the choicest and loveliest gifts of His providence.” —Susannah (Thompson) Spurgeon
I believe Lance, Gideon, Gabe and Cadence are the loveliest gifts that God has given me (with the exception of Jesus Christ) and I know that His plan is far better than mine so I will continue to seek Him, to listen for Him, and to lean in…however this life may look.
“Life in general was hard in the 16th century, and the unique circumstances Martin and Katherine Luther lived through sometimes made it even more so.
Luther had many health complications. They had financial woes. Both Martin and Katherine had strong personalities. They lost two children and suffered a miscarriage.
But perhaps because they didn’t expect married life to be easy, the Luthers didn’t question their marriage or consider divorce. Rather, they learned to cling to God and each other – and it was during those hard times that God used marriage to shape their character." — Jim Daly
