The day after

The second I saw the kitchen I was angry. Not the sighing weary anger but real- from the gut want to commit acts of violence- anger. The remnants of a fun, late night of cards and food were enough to send me over the edge. This is what happens when your children grow up and stay up later than you. Add to that dirty and clean laundry all co-mingling on the floor, last nights dishes and a plugged toilet and it's a recipe for disaster.

Me stomping through the house...
NO one picks up after themselves *bang*
they treat me like a maid *slam*
no respect. I get absolutely zero respect *violently throwing clothes in the general direction of the laundry room*
Room and board. I'm going to start charging room and board *slam slam bang*
I have to go away to WORK now...where I cook and clean and WAIT on OTHER people *yelled as I grab my bag and slam my way out the door*

You get the picture.

Once at work I remember there's no milk. *slam* Oh yeah, nobody is here to hear me.
I make my list and run to get groceries and upon my return, I hit my head getting out of the car. *moan* I put the key in the shop lock and it won't go in.
What the what!?! This just worked-I just unlocked this 20 minutes ago *fuming*
Maybe if I push a little more *snap*
Oh crap *grumbled under my breath as the key breaks off in my hand*
The universe is against me *Tears well up*
I will not cry I will not cry I will not cry *huge lump in my throat*

Tears suppressed, I get in my van and tires squealing head back home for the other keys.

Note for the future: It would be a lot easier to ask for Brad's help if you haven't acted like such a jerk. But I have no choice; so I ask. He grabs his jacket and follows me in his truck (from a distance, mind you, I'm sure fearful of what I may do). Upon arriving back at work I look and hang my head in shame and humiliation; I put the key in the wrong lock...that's why it wouldn't go in and that's why it broke.

User error. My user error. What's wrong with me! I've been opening this door for 6 years *no tears now just more anger*
As Brad pulls up, I hastily tell him the news and retreat into my shop kitchen. I assume he retrieved the broken key, I didn't stick around to find out.

In my kitchen, listening to Beethoven (which, incidentally is good, socially acceptable, appropriate for the work place anger music) I continue slamming and fuming partly wishing someone was around to care that my day's crappy and it's only 7:15 and mostly grateful no one's witnessing my hissy fit.

After I get everything going, I check my emails and facebook and finally this blog. And what do I see? Living on Sunday. What an idiot I am. Why did I ever post that? Now I have to own up to it. Wasn't yesterday Resurrection Sunday? The day we're reminded of the fact that not only did Jesus die for our sins (which should have been enough) but He rose again so that we "may have life and have it to the full".

So far my Monday living was full. Full. Of. Crap.

Legitimate frustration with my family for not picking up after themselves spiraled within seconds to full blown anger, resentment, bitterness and more anger. But I was at work now.

It was a busy day at the shop. 20+ women came in and I was friendly and charming and served them with a smile. None of them would have guessed that I still harbored malicious thoughts towards my own flesh and blood.

I'd love to end this post by telling you that when I got home the kids apologized and I apologized and we all made up and had a big family hug. But the reality is, although I'm letting it go, I'm still a little miffed and trying to get over my pity party.

Will living on Sunday ever be easy?*

*that's a rhetorical question.
**both photos are Lois (Jane Kaczmarek) from Malcolm in the Middle

Man of the Hour

"There is still no cure for the common birthday." John Glenn

For me, turning 40 was hard. I don't think it was the number, I think it was all the physical changes that occurred within weeks of the milestone: tiny wrinkles, visible veins where you don't want visible veins, dimmed eyesight, slowing brain etc... But despite all that, I've tried to embrace the 40's and three years later, there's a glimmer of hope that I'm progressing. Maybe by the time I hit 50 I'll have come to terms with 40.

The 40's are a thing of the past for you.

Today, you're turning 50.

And I know it's hard for you.

I don't know what to say to make it easier except to remind you that you are a loved man.

Your children look up to you and crave your words, attention and time from you because they value you so much.

Your siblings (including in-laws) appreciate your humor, talents, and steady character.

Your mom, even with her rapidly declining faculties, still knows when you're near and smiles.

Your parents in law adore you...and have told me again & again how thankful they are that you married their daughter.

Your friends see your wisdom & discernment and seek it out.

Your clients are in awe of your skills and proudly show off their homes naming you as the builder.

And your wife? Your wife is humbled again and again by the incredible gift given to her in all that you are. She wouldn't be the woman she is without your love, patience and encouragement. She thinks you're amazing.

You are loved, Brad.

Loved to the core of your being for all God's made you to be.

"I thank my God every time I think of you." Phillipians 1:3

The Gift

"..will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?" ~question of intent from the traditional marriage vows


"What's love got to do, got to do with it? What's love but a second hand emotion? What's love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?" ~Tina Turner 1984

Reading all the lyrics of the popular Tina Turner song, it's obvious she's singing about physical attraction. But with Valentine's Day just past, it's an interesting question applied to life and relationships.
What does love have to do with it?
We attribute so much to it...to love.
We get married because of it.
We have kids because of it.
Love brings both intense joy and intense pain. The joy is obvious, but the pain...oh, the pain...only someone you love deeply can hurt you just as deeply.
Love motivates both action and restraint. We do all sorts of things out of love: speak kind words, protect, sacrifice time & money so people we love can enjoy life. We also stop ourselves from saying and doing hurtful things to those we love, knowing the pain we inflict can be devastating.
But what does love have to do with living life? and is love enough in this life? without money...without hope or faith, without commitment...is love enough? We may get married because of love, but we stayed married, through good and bad and thick and thin because of commitment, not love. We stay in any relationship (family friends etc...) and work out differences, difficulties and even betrayal, not based on the feeling of love, but based on a choice to commit.

There's a quote from one of my favorite movies, The Painted Veil: "When love and duty are one, grace is within you."

I experienced grace this Valentine's Day. Love and duty mingled into one.

No chocolates.
No flowers.
No jewelry.
No pretty packaging.
No candle lit dinner.
No romantic weekend getaway.
Not even a schmaltzy card.
The gift I received this Valentine's Day was, to say the least, non-traditional.

Filled with love beyond measure, it surpassed all past gifts and will doubtless be the most memorable.

The stomach flu hit on my birthday and progressively got worse until I was reduced to a shaky, light-headed, dehydrated mess of a woman. This past Sunday, Valentine's day, the day of true love, my servant-husband, waited on me.
But it didn't start on Sunday. The serving started on Tuesday as I began retching into a bowl because I was too dizzy to walk.
Over the next 5+ days, my Valentine did the dishes. He washed, dried and folded laundry. He took care of all the prior responsibilities I had. He took our children to Church. He schlepped kids around to basketball games & friends houses. He made all the meals. He continued to do his own work, checking in on me as often as possible. And, last but not least, he cleaned up after his very sick wife.

He loved me in word and deed. His actions, tenderness, and kind words spoke both love and commitment...love and duty...grace...to me (and my kids whether they get it right now or not).
Thank you, honey, from the bottom of my still shaky heart.
I love you.

Love Divine

Two human loves make one divine.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning



Love...I saw it in their eyes, their smiles and their touches. I saw it between father & daughter as they danced. I saw it as the bride & groom and their parents shared communion together. I saw it in sisters & brothers, grandparents, cousins,and friends as they interacted. The weekend was saturated with love.

Joy...In the toasts given by the best man & maid of honor, the beaming smiles of parents, grandparents, and friends, even in the tears of one of the groomsmen, joy abounded.

Peace...Despite the stress of decorating, preparing, and running errands there was peace that passed understanding.

Patience...Witnessed between the bride & groom, the bride & her mom, the groom & his mom, and the countless others involved, a spirit of patience prevailed.

Kindness...The reassuring hugs and words spoken to calm nerves resounded with kindness.

Goodness...Evident in the pure life-styles of the bride and groom and and the joy of the witnesses, goodness permeated the celebration.

Faithfulness...Listening to vows spoken in love and trust, witnessing God praised and watching three sets of grandparents dancing to honor at least 50 years of marriage a piece, faithfulness flourished.



Watching the Rockies play...Attending a High Tea...Sharing meals...Googling endangered native wildflowers...Line Dancing at the rehearsal dinner...Decorating...Golfing...Rejoicing at the ceremony...Celebrating at the reception...hiking on Sunday...



From the time we arrived on Wednesday to our departure on Monday morning, the weekend was characterized by Beauty...Truth...Grace...and lots of laughter and fun.



David & Katie,

What a privilege to be included in your beautiful celebration! May you know God's blessing, peace, and abiding love as you begin your adventure together!

love, Aunt Patty

Legacy

In Pastor Ken's sermon yesterday, he talked about Mary and her response to the news that she was to be mother of the Messiah. He remarked that her initial reactions were submission and obedience. Ken went on to point out that 33 years later as Jesus struggled in the garden, he submitted and obeyed, in part, because he'd learned it, humanly, from his mom. Her trusting, submissive heart became one of her legacies.

This past summer, we celebrated my parents 50th anniversary. The church looked beautiful, the food tasted delicious and the fellowship was sweet. As part of the program, my nephew shared Grandma & Grandpa's legacy: unconditional love, truth (authenticty), and faith. He expounded on each point; noting specifics and exceptions and making us laugh and cry at regular intervals. The living legacy my parents have is rich and deep and appreciated by each of their children and 13 grandchildren.

As my own kids grow, change, and become more and more independant, I've wondered at my own legacy. Will it point them to the Father or cause them to question? Will it be percieved as a legacy of love, authenticity and faith, like my parents? Submission and obedience like Mary? Peace & grace like my friends, Nate & Cath? Will the legacy Brad & I leave prepare our kids and grandkids so that when their faith is tested "they'll come forth as gold"?

I want to be like Mary and my parents and the countless saints who've gone before leaving a legacy of faith in The One True God. I want to be faithful, but I realize that it takes more than a wish to leave the legacy you desire...it takes practicing all those things you want to leave, it takes faith, it takes intentionality :)

What about you? What legacy do you want to you leave?