Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

community

A week’s worth of thoughts

I’ve had a lot running through my mind this week and little time to write out my thoughts. So, lucky you, if you’re reading this, you get to take a peek at a week in the life of my brain. Try not to be afraid.

— I haven’t had as much sleep this week as I would like. Early in the week, Isabelle decided to assert her 2-year-old independence and boldly declare, “No, I not go to sleep” at bed time. This, followed by an hour or more of screaming, “I want my mommy” and throwing herself around her room, passing out in various areas of her room. One night, she fell asleep in the middle of the floor. Tonight confirmed one of my fears about this … she passed out in front of the door to her room, so I woke her up (by nudging the door into her head) when I went in to put Corban to sleep. The experts, doctors, I guess, say one reason for this sort of behavior is because they don’t want to miss out on what’s going on. Isabelle played that card tonight, conning me into letting her take a book and a Bible to bed with her, then desperately asking for anything she could think of to delay bedtime. As her mother, I disapprove of her antics, knowing that sleep is what’s best for her. But if I’m honest with myself, I’m guilty of the same. God repeatedly tells me to rest, and I repeatedly tell him, “But, the dishes aren’t done.” Or, “I need this time on Facebook to relax after a long day.” Or, “I deserve to stay up late and have ‘me’ time after being with the kids all day.” Rest, He says. And I know He knows what is best.

— Isabelle broke a glass in the kitchen this week. She didn’t do it on purpose. I think she was reaching for a dirty dish that she wanted to wash when it crashed to the floor. I rushed her out of the room while I picked up and swept the pieces I could see. I knew I needed to do a better job than that, but I just didn’t feel like it then. I was alone in the house with the kids and I didn’t want to have to play keep away from the kitchen with Isabelle while I tried to sweep and mop the whole floor. I paid for that decision all week. Four times, I stepped on a small piece of glass and had to dig it out with tweezers, wash the wound and affix a band-aid to the bottom of my foot. A few extra minutes when the breakage occurred could have saved me later, as could have a decision to wear shoes in the kitchen until I did. Reminds me of two things: that every decision has a consequence, good or bad and small wounds can cause big hurt.

— I’m having an increasing desire to “do life together” with people, and I’m not confident of being able to fulfill that desire where we’re at. Or maybe I just need to take more initiative. I said earlier this week that I was missing a sense of belonging. I know as a Christian I don’t belong here on earth, but I have to live here till I’m called home, and while I’m here, I want to know I’m part of something. I feel that on Sundays, most of the time. But the rest of the week, not so much. I’m not sure what the answer is, but I was grateful today to be able to hang out with a friend and her daughters. It was unplanned and unscheduled, but it was fun to connect, even though we were just “being.”

— My husband and I accepted a challenge this week, thanks to One Extraordinary Marriage, http://www.oneextraordinarymarriage.com. It’s totally out of my comfort zone, but I’m learning that I’ll do anything to strengthen my marriage. We’ve only been married three years, and while I know there is a cord holding us together (Ecclesiastes 4:12), sometimes that cord feels more like a kite string than a rope. I’m excited to see what’s changed after a week.

— I’ve been struggling with disappointment over things I thought should have happened but haven’t. I believe that God is in control and will not fail us, but acting on that belief isn’t always easy. I need to tear up my agenda for our lives and submit to His leading. Ugh. I can hardly even type that without throwing an internal tantrum.

I could probably go on, but my Swiss cheese mommy brain needs a break and can only think, “Oh, the laundry’s done,” and “It’s time for a snack!” And maybe I’ll listen to my Father for once and turn in early for some much-needed rest.

Hold tight

I can hear the wind howling outside. Two nights ago, the gusts were almost scary as a storm rolled in. The living room shades rattled and flapped. Papers flew off the printer and desk. The bedroom doors slammed shut.

We were in the midst of putting Isabelle to bed, and I knew the storm would hit soon. Although she sleeps soundly in her own room, in her own bed, I wanted to hold her close and sleep in the same room. And I wanted to keep Corban with us in the living room. Something about severe weather makes me want to hunker down, huddle up and stick together till the storm passes.

I wonder if we aren’t made this way — to crave community when the going gets tough. Our need for each other never seems to be more clear than in a time of crisis or great need. Think natural disaster, terminal illness, financial hardship or severe weather, to name a few.

We’ve been talking about and studying community for the last several weeks in Sunday School, and we were asked to share how we were welcomed into the community — the geographical and spiritual — because we moved from the Midwest to the mid-Atlantic. I had a hard time voicing my feelings on this subject because we felt very welcome, and we generally find people to be friendly and engaging. We know quite a few people, but we don’t know them well. Sometimes I think I have more of a bond with the nurses from our birthing unit than the people in our church. But maybe it goes back to the crisis and time of need idea.

The people I feel the closest to in my life are those with whom I’ve shared large chunks of life or something significantly out of the ordinary. I’ll always feel a bond with my maternity ward nurses, even if I don’t remember their names or faces, because they walked me through recovery and first-time mom worries.

I wonder if it’s like this for other people in church, even people who have been going to church together for decades. Maybe it’s just me. And I wonder if the church doesn’t need more crises, more significant moments, more life together in order to demonstrate the kind of bond and love that Jesus intended. I think of the disciples and how they held together after Jesus’ death, before they knew what had really happened, and how they held together after that, even when they faced extreme opposition.

At Bible study this week, we were reminded of this verse in 1 Peter: “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” (4:8, NIV) We were challenged and encouraged to protect and defend our Christian brothers and sisters from outside attack and to stand close together to not leave room for evil’s entry.

I don’t like storms, neither the ones that bring physical rain, thunder, lightning and hail nor the ones that bring pain, turmoil, confusion and despair into people’s lives, but if they’re necessary to form bonds that can’t be broken, then I have to be willing to let them come.

They will know we are Christians by our love. That’s my prayer. That the church will more evidently show itself as a people who rally around the defeated, pick up those who have stumbled, walk alongside the wandering, protect the weak and defend the weary. And in the process, maybe we’ll find ourselves a little tighter.