In This Village

“It takes a village.” A group of people. A network of friends and family. An abundance of love. I’ve spent the last week or so reflecting on the people in our life-- family, friends, acquaintances, the people we’ve deemed ‘family ’ by choice. I’ve thought about their presence in our lives in the last two months as we’ve walked through dark days. I’ve thought about their constancy to check in with us, just one more time, to make sure we’re doing ok. But today, I’ve found myself thinking about their importance to Abi Kate.

She is 18 months old today. At this time a year and a half ago, I was snuggling her up and breathing her in, completely overwhelmed by the fact that she had arrived. The months passed and Tommy & I learned parenting and all its complexities. We loved her more deeply as time raced on-- and we were not alone.

We, of course, love Abi Kate unyieldingly. The sacrifice and dedication to her life flows easily from Tommy& I because she is ours-- an extension of us as individuals and as a united couple. But to see other people love her in that way…. It truly fills my heart with such gratitude and unrelenting tenderness. It has been so unexpected for me that others, even our friends, would love her enough to care about her well-being.

When I’m out of the room and walk back in to see you playing with her, even when your own children are with you-- I notice. 

When you hug her and tell her you’ve missed seeing her-- I notice. 

When you gently correct her because you care about her heart and her character-- I notice. 

When you  take time to listen to what she’s saying-- I notice. 

When you bring her little gifts-- I notice. 

When she is genuinely excited to see you-- I notice. 

When you ask me to bring her along too-- I notice.

 When you point out the ways she is changing and growing-- I notice.

I notice your sacrifice. I harbor an endless amount of appreciation for you.

It has literally stopped me in my tracks so many times… that my friends who have their OWN children to love and adore, would take the time to love my child as well. I am so deeply humbled by that expression of care. In the same manner, when I see my friends who do not have their own children yet, come alongside us and love her-- ask how she is, ask to see her, hold her and embrace her… I again find myself feeling so unworthy of that, yet desperately grateful that they would share part of themselves with her. Even without being parents yourselves, you all have known how to love her so well.

I want her to experience the authority of others. I want her to be taught and loved by others, so that she will learn different viewpoints and understand this life with greater depth. I want her to see the character traits that I lack inside other people that share life with us, so that she will adapt those traits. I want her to see how other believers live and love this broken world so that she might do it too. And if she is surrounded, not just by Tommy and me, but by all these other incredibly selfless people then maybe she will have the best parts of all of us.

I am so grateful that we have not walked these last 18 months alone. If you have invested in Abi Kate, have loved her, have hugged her, have shown her grace, have said encouraging words to her… If you have helped us raise her and helped us love her, if you have made our child your child in any sense…. Thank you. Thank you for being a part of this village. There are so many of you but not enough words or tears to explain the importance and value it is in my heart. We are indebted to your kindness and benevolent acts of love. 

“It takes a village to raise a child.” Today, I am so thankful- as parents and for our daughter-- for the village we have found ourselves in. 

Things Change

Things are slowly drifting into a new normal around here. Not always, but often. And things I was afraid I might never do again resurfaced . It was a busy last week, filled with memories. To the people that were apart of them, the people we walked past, it was probably just a regular good day. But it was more for me…

I sat at the kitchen table of one of my best friends. The same friend who saw me through my chubby elementary school years, my butterfly-clip middle school years. (If that’s not dedicated friendship, I don’t know what is.) 

I know, I was almost too ashamed to post this.... love me through it, Meg?!

We mostly just talked and ate a lot… And we laughed as hard as we cried within those few hours. We talked about silly things and hard things. And within an hour we definitely pinpointed what’s culturally wrong with women. Modern day geniuses ;)

I watched my little toddler run all around the living room floor with another best friend’s child. (you can really never have too many best friends). We ate popsicles and sat on the deck and those sweet little girls looked like the epitome of summer with melted strawberry & honey dripping down their bare chests. And I watched as the youngest of the group took off walking across the deck, 16 full steps, desperate to get herself a bite of a popsicle.  

I ate Cajun food twice and went out with my husband. We laughed in the car while he cracked silly jokes and almost got lost (which is almost always guaranteed when we go on a date).  We went bowling, stopped to buy socks because we forgot ours at home, and I really want to post all the pictures but I’m just way too embarrassed. I need the bumpers as much as I needed them at my birthday party where I turned 9. Tommy felt so sorry for me that he said, “We’re a team! Let’s shoot for a team score!” I’m so lame. But it was lots of fun, and even funnier when I bowled 2 gutter balls back to back in the final frame of the night. We went out and saw a movie and ate popcorn and candy for dinner. And as normalcy never seems to follow us on dates, we got to catch the movie for the hearing-impaired (i.e. there were captions throughout the entire movie. Awesome.) As Tommy said, “We get to read a book AND watch a movie.”

We went and picked blueberries and holy mackerel was that a task in itself. If I’d had gold stars in my car, I would’ve given them to the farmers. We came home with pounds of blueberries, just the right mixture of sweet and tart. Abi Kate was the ultimate blueberry thief, eating so many off the bushels that I felt sure we owed them at least the cost of 2 additional pints. She shouted “BLUE!” when she realized what they were and took off running down the rows.

It's always sad to leave fun places. :( 

We bought a potty. And not for us but for the little girl who started telling us, “Potty!” a few weeks ago. She’s got a long time ahead of her, as she tells us usually while she’s going and she doesn’t always mention it. We’re in no hurry at all (her diapers are cute) and we weren’t really prepared for her interest (can’t we just force her to use our potty?), but we figured we’d roll with it and let her experiment with her own as she becomes ready. She loves it. She filled the entire thing up with 10 pairs of my panties the other night and closed the lid. I found them later…. At least she’s finding good use for it?! But she did tell us ahead of time the other day, we took her to the potty, and sure enough, she pooped in it. (I can’t believe my blog has succumbed to poop stories….) She thinks it’s a really big deal.

Abi Kate and I went swimming with some of our favorite friends. We talked birth and babies. Fears and faith. We laughed at the wittiness her seriously hysterical oldest daughter. And when this sweet, intelligent little girl asked me about the baby we lost, I was able to answer her questions without falling apart. Abi Kate dressed up like Rapunzel, which I totally loved-- her, not so much. It was a good day.

In a lot of ways, life has changed for us in the last few weeks. For me, change rarely comes easily. People that we didn’t expect stepped out and genuinely loved us well.  That has changed me. We learned that some of the people we thought cared a lot for us, probably don’t care as much as we’d hoped or thought.  And that has been hard and brought change too. But in the grand scheme of things, we’ve found ourselves humbled and in need of the constancy of Christ--another change that has ushered in spiritual growth. It’s difficult to recognize and accept the lack of control we have actually have in this life, that such encounters with life’s brevity conjure fear and sadness.  Everything is not perfect or whole or even comfortable in our lives yet. But this week, these memories, these people that have invested in us, they are the proof that God restores.

And even though my thoughts and heart never stray far from the sadness, I found myself genuinely happy on these days. Balancing joy and sorrow. Enjoying simplicity and every day moments. 

And that has been a welcome change. 

Bring On the College Years

Oh, adulthood. It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? I think as little children we’re always chasing after it, or at least what it has to offer. Freedom from bedtimes and rules, being able to do what you want when you want-- choices. And then you go to high school where you’re ready to get out and move away to college and start your life. But so many people in the background are saying, “These will be the best years of your life! You’ll be dying to return.” And then there’s college, and you spend those four (sometimes five…oops!) years thinking that it is real life. Until you graduate. And you realize college was not reality but you have now, finally met real life face to face.

I can’t say I’ve fallen into the “high school was the best time of my life” group. Like at all. Every time I drive past my old high school, I feel like shouting, “Freedom!!” You know, the Mel Gibson version from Braveheart. I didn’t have a bad high school experience, just the opposite. But I always felt that people were so dramatic and mostly disingenuous with their thoughts and their friendships. And when I look at the Facebook pages of many current high schoolers, I see that this is still the case. I guess it’s true- “the more things change the more they stay the same.” And just like every high school teenager, I said, “Oh I’m going to move away to college as soon as I graduate.” False. This did not happen, and I’m so not sad about it. Word of the wise-- there are very few careers that consider the school that you received your undergraduate from. Do yourself a favor-- go to the state school. You’ll thank yourself later when you aren’t swimming in student loan debt, and you can use your salary for whatever you want.

While it’s true that I drive past the high school and don’t miss it, driving near campus is an entirely different story. It’s funny because I thought I’d never miss college either. Wrong. I remember the first week of classes as a freshman, I was so overwhelmed and thought I’d never enjoy it. But time passed, and I began to appreciate the independence college lends over your schedule, the love affair it spurned with coffee. I became a fantastic parking place stalker (if you’ve been a student at MTSU, you completely understand this statement), managed to enjoy the downtime between classes when I had a sucky schedule by treating myself to Starbucks on campus, and I even narrowed down the walk between the Honors building and Peck Hall to a quick 8 minute trek (P.S. WHY on earth did I schedule myself that walk for 3 semesters in a row?!). It really was a time of responsibility without the immediate consequences--- definitely NOT real life. Stay up too late the night before? It’s ok, just skip class the next morning and sleep in. There’s no attendance policy. Sure, you might scramble to make up what you missed, but really no big deal. Spend 8 hours studying for an exam the day before because you haven’t looked at the information at all in the previous weeks? Passed test. It’s funny because I kinda had this sense I was living in the real world. There’s lots of people who are all busy and consumed with what they’re doing at the moment. You walk past them in herds, say thank you to the person who holds the door for you, eat near them in the University Center while you both study different course work, and then you sit in class and form an acquaintance based on your mutual dislike for the professor who reads his lecture notes from a legal pad that is older than you…. If you compared the picture, it looks a lot like people passing each other in a work building, being busy with some task, living in the real world. But it’s not really-- the people are different and the consequences aren’t the same. You’re accountable, but only to yourself. Things are easier in college. More free. Some of my closest friendships were formed there. In fact, I have fond memories of going to a friend’s apartment on campus in between classes while we both trudged through the chaos of 18 hours and 2 teaching practicums, case studies and observations… Swear, what was I thinking?! I met her my first day of class after switching majors in my junior year. I sat down beside her in an Educational Psychology class (which I was always chronically late for). I’d been married for a few months and she was planning her wedding. We became friends and stayed friends, through marriage and graduation, new jobs, new homes, and now as we build our families. And naively, I have thought that all my relationships would be this way if I just wanted them to. That the time you spend investing in others spills out into friendships that lasts, friendships that allow you to talk about the hard things, that challenge each other with confrontation, that are vulnerable with honesty, that are transparent and don’t hide the brokenness that exists in each person’s life. Sharing life with each other. But I am learning that this is not always the case, not in the real world. Not in a world where even other believers are broken and incapable of transparency, of showing the ugliest parts of themselves.

It’s been hard for me, and it’s had me missing my time in college-- when things were easy and relationships were soft. When I was unaware of the cost of pouring your life into others. When the responsibility of choices felt light. I’m learning that you just can’t lay down roots in every friendship, even if you wanted to so badly. Not all people are open to that.  In fact, many of the people that you pour yourself into will walk in and then walk out of your life. It might not be immediately. It might be years down the road, which makes it harder I think. Some people enter your life, take what they need, and exit as quickly as they arrived. Some people throw themselves into and out of friendships whenever things get difficult or whenever it’s time to move to the next level of honesty of vulnerability, making a slow exit, leaving you in the wake to figure out where things stand. It’s a messy picture, but relationships are messy. Sharing life with other people is messy, and I’ve found that many people just aren’t ready for that type of commitment.

I talked about this with Tommy the other day and with my sister. They are always who I seek when I need counsel. Tommy always speaks directly to my heart. I never have to say much for him to already understand where I’m at and why. He knows me well. And my sister encouraged me to think on the example set by Christ-- the commitment Jesus had to His Father, and His disciples- his friends--just lagging along half-heartedly as He was deeply invested, taking what they needed from Him…. She reminded me that this is the model for our relationships. Except we aren’t the Perfect loving the imperfect. We’re the imperfect soul loving other imperfect souls, which complicates things. That the investment isn’t what matters as much as bringing glory to God through loving others rightly. Because really, it just isn’t about me. Even though I want it to be, to be about my friendships and the closeness that I feel to others. Even though I think I cast that off, my needs and my wants…. There I am again, with all my expectations wrapped up in other people. But what happens in this life in terms of relationships has much more to do with the Kingdom of Christ than it has to do with me.

Sometimes the cost of investing in others to not have it reciprocated is high. To think that there is a mutual sacrifice and sharing of life together and then find out that isn’t it the case-- it’s hard. And it hurts. But this…. THIS is real life... Where people hurt and aren’t whole, where communication failures abound, where the façade of perfection reigns over the realities of brokenness.  Where people put up walls and keep others out. Where people aren’t kind and are sinful--even me. The consequences and realities are much harder than that in college. Real choices lead to real effects.  The accountability is heavy. It is the reality of adulthood.

Of course, no child knows that this is what they are chasing after. Otherwise, they’d happily accept their naptime, orange juice, and the little friend that keeps demanding they share the toys. But it is real. And even though there’s sadness involved, there’s hope too.  “.. Behold, I am making all things new…” Rev. 21:5. I believe that extends to hearts and people, even to relationships.  I am trying to remember this, so when people disappoint me (and they will, just like I will disappoint them), I can keep a better perspective on my calling and my purpose. That I will choose to find my expectations in the person and completed work of Jesus Christ instead of in others.  It’s a hard road to walk, but one I do not walk alone. And as I’ve entered into adulthood, I’ve become abundantly grateful for friendships that are real. Ones that are open and honest, capable of weathering hard conversations and reveling in one’s accomplishments without envy. The ones where they walk beside you and live out the Gospel, where the ebb and flow of the relationship looks like constant sacrifice and service-- mutual care. I’m finding these are very rare relationships indeed, but worth pursuing. They might’ve been friendships forged in childhood or adulthood, out of mutual like or necessity, but no matter how they were created there is potential to spur one another on to good works. I’ve always been grateful for friends, but I think this realization has pushed me over to a new level of gratitude. Maybe that was the point all along…..And for these people in my life, the ones who stay and wade through the darkness and celebrate in the joys of life, the ones who check-in when others check-out, for you all…. I am so incredibly thankful.