Clinging to the Vine: May 2013

Please Friend Me!

10:27 AMHeather

I can remember being a little girl, living on an Army base in Hawaii, and learning a little song in Girl Scouts.

"Make new friends but keep the old,

one is silver and the other gold."

We'd stand in a little circle and cross our arms over and then hold hands. We'd flip to the outside at the end of the song. Does this little ritual sound familiar to any other former Girl Scout?

Gotta be honest. If I can't be honest with you bloggy friends, then with whom can I share my authentic thoughts? That song was hard for me. Let me say again. I lived on an Army base. Friends were always coming and going as their parents got orders to be stationed elsewhere. Lasting friendships were a luxury I didn't know. Having a severe speech impediment did not help my friend predicament. I was taunted often--my lisp and struggle with the letter "r" were an easy fodder for jokes. Not such a good impediment for a child named Heather. Ugh.

I can distinctly remember thinking how I wish I could keep the old friends. There was a bitterness as I sang this song because my old friends were long gone. New ones? Not so easy with my speech issue. I remember feeling like an outcast. Leaving Hawaii only brought me a new label when we finally lived off base in the next location. I was "THE NEW GIRL." A label I would retain through the next two moves. A label that to this day sorta haunts me.

I don't tell you all this to evoke sympathy. But rather to make a point. Friendships, you see, are precious. Lasting friendships--the kind that endure for decades--are a treasure. Even all these years later, it's a novelty I can hardly wrap my brain around.

Like this morning. As I sat over a cup of coffee with a dear college friend who is actually at my house, in the flesh, and with whom I've walked through more than twenty years of my life. I can still hardly believe it. That shy insecure little girl still marvels at a friendship that can kept and nurtured and maintained through milestones like college, marriage, babies, and now mothering teenagers.

I've found such merit in Facebook. A place where old lost friendships have been restored. Albeit in a virtual, sorta artificial manner. Nonetheless, some lost years of my childhood have been redeemed and restored as I've found friends from my school years and college years and we've reconnected. It never ceases to amaze me.

Yet, Facebook can be a double edged sword. It's not real life. It's not intended to be the only connection with others that we have. Sure, we can keep up with where each other checks in to eat or which accomplishments their child has achieved. But, it's not intended to be the friendship entree.

Rather, I believe it should be the appetizer. The starting point. The connection point that leads to actual face-to-face interactions. The way God intended. The way we were meant to live--in community! In fellowship and journeying together, keeping our old friends. And, yes, making new ones. The silver and the gold. That move beyond the internet toward engaging in conversation over cups of coffee.

Don't we all need that?

Let me tell you where Facebook is taking me this weekend. Twenty years (gulp) after graduating from Baylor, I will be reuniting with my college roommates and neighbors. At my house. In person. Where we can hug each other. Cry together. Laugh. All over a cup of coffee. Or cookie dough that gets eaten before anyone can think about baking it.

This is amazing to me. I can't express it enough. This group of ladies who walked me through the darkest days of my life. Who giggled as I walked out the door for a date with my new boyfriend. Who smiled and cheered at our wedding. Who sent baby gifts for my children. Who have cried with me through heartaches and struggles along the way. Whom I am still blessed enough to call friends.

Not just on Facebook.

And it makes me want to implore you, bloggy friends, to step out of your cyber world. Step beyond "friending" someone on Facebook. How about "friending" them in real life? Make the first move. And then the next if necessary.

Invite someone for a breakfast. Or lunch. Or coffee. Or a walk. Somehow. Somewhere. Find a way to connect in real life. It will feed your soul as it fulfills a God given need in your life.

The truth is, we need each other. To be real and authentic and transparent. To check in on each other. To follow up on a discouraged Facebook status with an actual phone call or text or by dropping by a card to that hurting person's house.

'Cause I don't just want to be friended on Facebook. I want to be friended in real life. To make new friends. And keep the old. And treasure the silver and the gold with which God enriches my life. In seasons of suffering. In seasons of joy. Holding on to each other. Cheering each other on. Crying with each other. Sharing the burden as we journey together through life.

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another.

Romans 12:15-16

When you think of those who enrich your life, consider the last time you made an effort to see them and connect in person. When was the last time you had an actual conversation? Make an effort today. Friend them for real!

Cause our mamas knew what they were talking about when they told us to play nicely. Together. Sharing our world with one another.

Tick Tock, The Mommy Clock

8:54 AMHeather

Sunday before last, I walked into our worship service and smiled at seeing the 2013 high school graduates lined up, ready to be honored in the annual Senior Recognition Day. I took my seat, and then began to look down the line of young adults. It wasn't long before my smile turned to leaky eyes. Having been part of this church family for ten years, I've watched these young people grow up. My mind began to race as I looked from one smiling, proud face to the next. And I began to sniffle. I felt a sense of pride and admiration and nostalgia, all mixed together.

By the time they were each introduced, one-by-one, with a baby picture and a senior picture of each graduate flashing on the big screen, I began to feel my heart race. I felt a bit short of breath, and began to recognize the signs of what was happening.

Full on panic attack. Well, not literally--as in the kind that can be diagnosed medically. But, within my emotions, I felt a sense of panic. Like a movie scene where the heroine is racing the clock to save the world from mass destruction and it seems to tick faster each second.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

I saw the years flashing before me as the reality settled over me about how very quickly my own 8th grade graduate would be walking across that church stage, in cap and gown.

My mommy heart ached as the panic spread throughout my heart and my mind.

Have I done enough? Have I seized every opportunity? Have I taught him what he needs to know? What life skills have I yet to pass on to my offspring? Will he be ready? Have I taught him the Word enough? Have I showed him love enough? Have I made memories enough?

Of course, the answer is no.

Because I never could. I never could do enough. When it comes to mothering our children and pouring ourselves out, its an endless endeavor. Enough is not part of the mothering vocabulary.

Except when we tell our children, "That's ENOUGH." Or, "I've had ENOUGH."

Oh, bloggy friends and fellow parents, my heart is seized up with joy and pride and angst and grieving as I watch the days slip by, faster and faster. Just like people warned me. They told me that it would go more quickly the older they get. I was forewarned that the middle school years would fly and the high school years would be but a blur.

Now I realize that truer words were never spoken. As I prepare to send my first born off to high school. As I sat with him while he explained his four year course plan for high school. Just days after a college application packet appeared in my mail box. And he has the nerve to routinely tell me just how many months are left until he can learn to drive. Worse yet, he often contemplates just how he will fix up the car he expects to inherit when he turns 16. And he can drive wherever he wants to go. It's about eighteen months away. How can this be?

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

My baby boy. My first born. And the next one follows closely behind. Even for my baby girl, the third of our children, I have recently witnessed the packing of certain toys and the board books, marking the end of an era in her childhood.

It's nearly more than my heart can take. Yes, indeed, part of my heart is walking around outside my body within those three children of mine. I'd walk through fire for them. I'd throw myself in front of a train for them.

Have I conveyed my fierce love for them enough?

Enough.

What a dangerous word. Because it taunts me and teases me and tells me of my failures. It's like a neon sign pointing to my short comings. And I hardly know how to resolve that kind of mommy guilt.

But, this comes to mind. This is the balm to my aching soul. My weakness. It's His opportunity.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."

2 Corinthians 12:9

Of course, on my own, I can never do enough. But, I do have a choice to make. I can lament my mistakes and mourn over what I haven't done. I can wallow in that sense of guilt and shame, comparing myself to Pinterest perfect moms who have plenty to brag about on Facebook.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

Or, I can stand firm in this promise. My insufficiency--the gaps I leave--are an opportunity. For Him to show up. For Him to fill in. For me to surrender to his sufficient faithfulness. For me to rest in His provision. Which never runs out. Which is always enough.

My heart rate slows and my pulse becomes steady. And I remember, once again. These darling children who stretch and pull at my every ability and deplete every ounce of love and patience and adoration and strength. They were His first. They always will be. Our Heavenly Father is their Abba. Their faithful Almighty God. He goes where I can't. He does what I can't. He will carry them through every hurdle, every obstacle, every challenge, every stage of life.

He is their God. And He gave me the privilege of being their Mom.

He will carry me through the panic attacks. The racing clock. He is the superhero who has saved the world from mass destruction.

He will equip me to make the most of my days.

He will shoulder the burden and calm my mommy fears.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

He holds our times in His hands.

Praise God! What a precious promise.

Life Lessons from 5K Training

9:00 AMHeather

I did it. Or rather--we did it. Last Saturday, my man and I ran our first official 5K. I've posted about our training ad nauseum on Facebook. I'm sure my FB friends are tired of hearing it. And, yes--you bloggy friends have endured a comment or two about it. Just in case I haven't completely talked this thing to death...I thought I'd take a stab at wrapping up the life lessons I've learned from 5K training.

For my own sake. And for posterity. And perhaps, you too, can glean something valuable here. Because I have found such a metaphor for life in the last few months of this adventure.

1. Dream Big-- This is a phrase I often hear from my dear Auntie Peggy. Dream big. And she does. She dreams big. She's done some amazing things and had some amazing life experiences because she did just that. Like taking a team of fellow nurses and doctors to Malawi to work with AIDS patients.   Or traveling to Manchu Pichu in South America. Big dreams indeed!

Yeah, yeah--if I was really dreaming big, I'd envision completing a marathon--right? Listen, perhaps I haven't been clear. I. Am. Not. A. Runner. I have never been an athlete. Two years ago, I spent 5 months in physical therapy--the beginning of which I was literally not able to function. The crazy idea to even attempt to train for and complete a 5K race is my version of dreaming big. Or at least--it's a start. Cause you gotta dare to dream big... consider something you've never done or thought you could do.

2. Plan to work... and Work a Plan-- What's your dream? Everyone's got a dream! That's a favorite line from the movie Pretty Woman. So, if you are going to let yourself dream big--what's your dream? Being Pragmatic Paula here I don't always allow myself to dream big...but I do know that you gotta have a plan! A goal without a plan is simply a dream unfulfilled. (I just made that up... but I think it sounds like it could go in a fortune cookie?) You gotta work a plan...and plan to work. For me, training for a 5K has been work indeed. And the Couch to 5K app on our phone was just the plan we needed. It broke it down for us, week by week, and made it attainable. The dream was a 5K...the plan and the work were one day at a time. One training session at a time. So all you dreamers out there--go for it! Break it down to a workable plan and time table. And be willing to work for it. All you planners out there--think outside the box! And know that you can tackle a big dream when you put your planning skills to work.

3. Everyone needs a running buddy-- I have been blessed with many wonderful and amazing friends in my life. No doubt. But the seasons of life do not allow us to spend as much time together as we'd like. I must admit--I can get down about this. Because I am deeply relational. I want to sit with a friend over a cup of coffee and spend hours solving all the world's problems. But, raising three children doesn't allow this kind of luxury often. So, I pray often for a running buddy. I've meant that figuratively for years. For friendships where we can run to the store together, check in often, and know exactly what's going on with each other. I need that connection. Truth is--I think most of us do. I don't mean a social media connection either. I mean that we are wired to tackle this journey of life in community. That's God's design. We just have to figure out how to join in with those around us and connect where we can. When it comes to connection, the solution might just be right under our nose....

4. Rediscover your spouse-- Listen, I may be stubborn sometimes, but I am not so dense to ignore the irony that I have long prayed for a running buddy type of connection. And have to really chuckle out loud that God spurred me and my man to literally become running buddies! Oh, yeah! That man I married! The one who has seen me through thick and thin and even thinner over the last nearly 23 years! The one who I couldn't wait to spend every waking moment with when we were Baylor students. The one who I realized I wanted to even wake up to every day of my life. The one who can get lost in the shuffle of children and calendars and tasks and schedules. The one who really is my best friend. And I remembered all that great stuff about him every time we ran together. While I huffed and puffed and inched forward every step in my grumpy morning stupor. And he responded by telling me I could do it and c'mon girl, and you've got this. What a joy (and how convicting) to remember that he is my biggest cheerleader. He is my best running buddy. I just had to literally run with him to remember that. Trying something new and starting an adventure together has been awesome. To remember that our lives need never to get stale and status quo. There are always new things to attempt to do together to breath fresh life into our relationship.

5. Cute shoes always help-- Okay, okay. I'm really NOT a shoe girl. I don't feel the need to own dozens of pairs of shoes for every outfit. I like my basic shoes and that's all I need. See? I am really practical. BUT, I must say...that sometimes when you are dreaming big and working your plan, you do need the right equipment. And, if you are able to make that equipment fun and enjoyable--it really does help you in your endeavors.

Case in point.

Aren't those super cute shoes? The best part is that they make running so much easier (well, relatively speaking) because they are the right fit for my foot. Chris treated me to a little evaluation at Luke's Locker where they found the right shoe for my stride. My choices were a gray and blue shoe... or these fun colorful ones. I decided that truly--as I tackled this goal--cute shoes would help. Why not have fun with it? As long as you are not putting yourself in a bad position financially... get the right equipment and treat yourself to something to make the journey easier AND more enjoyable.

6. Do the hard work-- Life is hard. And it requires much of us. The older I get the more I see that we live in a culture where we want things to be easy and we want instant gratification. If it takes too long or is too difficult--forget it. I see this in how disposable marriages have become and in our general work ethic and attitude as a culture. We complain about anything involving a long wait, and we certainly want everything to be convenient. We get so wound in our First World Problems that we forget how our grandparents survived without fast internet (or any internet at all), working kitchen and household appliances, paved roads and completed road construction projects, or the ability to nuke their food in sixty seconds or less.

Working long and hard for the sake of a goal or even the character building process is becoming a lost art, IMHO. See? I didn't even want to spell out "in my humble opinion." Too long and hard. Give me my abbreviations, please. LOL.

But, there is indeed great value in working long and hard and doing uncomfortable things. There is a sense of accomplishment that builds self-esteem and faith and character when you wake up before sunrise although you are not a morning person. And you put on running shoes and you beat your body into obedience as you hit the pavement when it's raining or cold or hot. Oh, it's not always fun. But, it always always, without fail, gave me a great sense of accomplishment to come home after 30-45 minutes and know I'd done the hard work.

I'd remember this verse, as my breath and legs and body were giving out.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.

2 Corinthians 9:24-27

The heading introducing that passage on Bible gateway--by the way--says "the need for self-discipline." So, I'd run and start to give out and I'd think to myself, "strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that I will not be disqualified. Run (LITERALLY) in such a way to get a prize... go into strict training."

And I'd think of my Poppy. My dear hardworking Poppy, who traveled every week from Sunday afternoon until Friday night, throughout his career. To provide as he worked hard. And while on the road, the man would run. In place--because hotels didn't have gyms back then. So, he'd run in place. I can remember from the time I was a little girl through my college years, my Poppy would run for what I think was nearly two hours. In place. In the garage, if he was home. I'd go out there and say hello. And he would wink or smile, but he wouldn't quit until his work was done. So, I'd run these last few months and think, "Geez. If my 70 something year old grandpa could do this, I can do this!"

So I did. Not just for me. But also so my children could see that sometimes you have to do the hard work, go the long way, do the uncomfortable thing in order to accomplish what you feel called to do.

7. Run your own race-- Last Saturday, as I ran, I realized a huge stinking mistake I was making. It was a big issue for me. Chris and I had never run with anyone else. Just us. In our little neighborhood, on our own little pace. But, in our first 5K, I was running in a crowd of people. And it messed with my head. Because they passed me by. And I was left behind. Truth is--even before the starting gun--this was actually a problem. Because I saw the runners with the white race bibs. Those running the 10K. Which made me think, "Oh. I'm just doing a 5K." To console myself, I'd glance at the green race bibs. "Oh yeah? Well, at least I'm doing the 5K and not just the mile fun run."

As we ran the course and we got passed up, I struggled. It really messed me up mentally. It made me literally have to stop to walk three different times. Briefly--but that's how badly it threw me off. I couldn't even keep running until I pulled myself back together. When we finished, we realized that we'd run a minute faster per mile than we ever had. Because we were trying to keep up. Yes, we did it. But it was a strain.

Because we didn't run our own race. We didn't run the race marked out for US, at the pace right for US. And it made us struggle as we felt off balance and weary. The result was the same--we crossed the finish line. But, we made the actual race much harder because we were trying to run someone else's pace...and someone else's race.

How like life that is. We look around us and feel passed up. So we speed up and we spend more and we work harder to keep up with the Joneses. Or, we look behind us, prideful of those who are merely walking and have fallen behind. And we forget that we each have our own race to run. We all have the same finish line. But, we each have to get there in our own way. In the way marked for US. In the way God intended it just for who we are.

I must say that this whole experience has been remarkable really. I feel different. Not just because I can now run three miles all at once and even without stopping. But, because the process changed me. The process has taught me so much. I'm sure there are many more life lessons ahead as I sort through this 5K training and what it's meant. And my race isn't over. Because I'm not going to stop running and I'm already registered for another 5K.

Much like life. I can't stop running. God has more for me. And I need to allow him to continue the process. I can't just run without any training. I can't just float through life to the finish line. That won't work. No. I must commit and submit to the training here in this life. The race marked out for me. Even when I can't see the course ahead. He does. And He will be waiting at the end of it all, cheering me through. Ready to pat me on the back and give me a victory hug and tell me I did it!

(side note: this is after the race. I had to laugh when a little girl I know said to us, "Y'alls faces are really red!" Yes, darlin'. They are. Really red. But we did it. And we are still on our feet.)

My Prayer for the Tornado Victims

7:46 AMHeather

Please Friend Me!

Tick Tock, The Mommy Clock

Life Lessons from 5K Training

My Prayer for the Tornado Victims

hopewriter

Subscribe and Follow

Blog Archive

Followers

Popular Posts

Contact Form

Clinging to the Vine