The 22nd

I close out this day thinking of two things the March 22, 2016 marks - Stephen Caleb Oster's 38th birthday & today marks 3 months since I last kissed my mother's cheek. I'm holding both so close to my heart, so here are a few short thoughts:

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Easter Four Years ago... Happy Birthday Stud!

Easter Four Years ago... Happy Birthday Stud!

First for PH -  my fav stanzas of John O'Donohue's blessing For Your Birthday: 

Blessed be the mind that dreamed the day
The blueprint of your life
Would begin to glow on earth,
Illuminating all the faces and voices
That would arrive to invite
Your soul to growth.

Praised be your father and mother,
Who loved you before you were,
And trusted to call you here
With no idea who you would be.

When desolation surrounded you,
Blessed be those who looked for you
And found you, their kind hands
Urgent to open a blue window
In the gray wall formed around you.

Blessed be the gifts you never notice,
Your health, eyes to behold the world,
Thoughts to countenance the unknown,
Memory to harvest vanished days,
Your heart to feel the world's waves,
Your breath to breathe the nourishment
Of distance made intimate by earth.
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I truly spent time throughout the day offering gratitude to God for the man Stephen is already and is becoming, and I end the day with a sense of awe that it is also the man I get to navigate the years with for hopefully a very long time. He is my very very best friend who i enjoy immensely and the love I am still discovering. Happy Birthday Stephen! 

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To recognize that over 90 days have past without my mother on this Earth hurts so deeply. There is still something so raw and horribly unnerving about time adding up since I got to hear from her and be near her. I actually become more and more haunted that this is the circle of life - to receive love and have love at an unparalleled amount to then let go and pass days with only memories is flat out awful. I miss her more all the time and I actually don't want to get to the curve in the circle where it evens out or becomes familiar to live without her. I love you mom. 

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If she were here she would have written Stephen a cheesy card filled with adoration for the man he is to the world, to her daughter and to her grandkids. She admired him, dreamed with him, and thanked God for him all the time. 

Good night all. 

Holy Week Monday

Here is my life God.  I don't know. 

How much letting go of our expectations before we actually let go. How white knuckled is my hold on my plans for myself, for my people? How open am I to the continued discomfort that will most surely leave me unquestionably in the will of God because I know it doesn't match my will?

I am still always waiting for comfort. I put a lot of effort into pursuing and thinking about the moments of the day that will have ease. I cut my day up into chunks and think, okay, I'll get to breath, rest, break from 6-7am, 1-2pm, 9-10pm and I operate through many parts of the day to get to the part that feels most like pleasure. Only that striving for those hours doesn't feel like real life. And to need them so badly has me really messed up when that precious time is waylaid because a child doesn't sleep, is sick, has a bad dream, wakes early, and so on. Or a friend is in need and that hour needs to be a phone call, meal prep or letter writing and so on. The point is can life be richer with an open hand to the whole day? Can I see the acts of each part of the day as their own opportunity to be more alive - at breakfast with the kids, while driving around in the car to school or grocery or piano, playing on the ground with trucks and airplanes, cooking, and cleaning? What's in these other pieces of my day that actually have me leave my body a bit because I am always just working towards the comfort? And how is it that I have I set up my days to be so needy of the dangling shiny jewel rather than alive in all and not expectant of the shiny jewel? 

I see this in my daughter day's too, the waiting for the next treat. When can I have a show, a cookie, a cuddle and so much of the day is spent lobbying for treats that there is a lot of life missed in between because ultimately she too is pursuing comfort. Let me say that doesn't feel all wrong. I don't actually think enjoying and taking comfort in the day is wrong or that God does not have it in His will that we have comfort and pleasure.

Only I also don't find often that God has promises for this life in this world to be one that is comfort-filled. That's actually the carving out and longing for heaven. Here and in so so so many stories in the Bible are examples of lives filled of persecution, waiting, loss, confusion. So why would I read these stories and be lead to believe my life will be filled of ease and treats? And actually I do believe i have a life full of ease and treats in many ways, i do, it takes me ten seconds to think of the riches in my life. ONLY what I am feeling and thinking about is more about the full disposition of my days, the expectation of my days, do I enter them thinking - Here is my life God, I don't know - and then take the ride? Or do I lay out all my beautiful plans including the perfect parceled hours of ease and set into life with the expectation that my plan is good and should unfold accordingly? 

That's my thoughts for today folks. Can I be a comfort seeker and a seeker of God's will? Maybe. Somedays. Yes AND. Or not until Heaven? 

You Go Man

It is 5:16am on Saturday morning and I am carefully cracking the door open to let Stephen out to the dark, cool morning and say goodbye. I'm beaming as much as a person can at that rude hour on a weekend, but I am SO for YOU. I tell him how lucky the people are that will get to meet him in the next 5 days. Mostly because I know that you will not only hear stories differently but you will tell them differently. And also I'm happy because I know you love this camp nestled in the Canadian mountains, so disconnected and so breathtakingly beautiful. I know it breaths the fresh air right into your lungs. 

Last night as we packed way too late at night, I asked if I could tell you my thoughts, and as you always so kindly do, you said, yes please. I said, my prayer will be that as you reenter new relationships and opportunity and engagement with Young Life, I hope you allow yourself to start fresh in how you respond. Because that is what I think all the grit, loss, pain, shock and soul searching over the last five years offers - a different response. One I believe you found in the wee hours of the morning day after day when you were confused and angry and disappointed. One I believe you found when you begged God day after day to speak to you and tell you how to keep going, how to care for yourself and your family. You sat through many silent mornings. But some were loud. And they changed you. 

As I tiptoed back upstairs and got back into bed, first I prayed the kids would sleep in an amazingly long time (that one didn't work btw), and then I prayed for a covering and resting over Stephen. He has always been able to respond with a lot of "right" answers. As two pastors kids, I believe a lot of ministry in early years of both of our life involved a lot more advice, a lot more scripture reciting, a lot more right sounding responses. And I believe they came from very real parts of our hearts. But today for the first time in a longtime as I lay there in bed I tasted this sweetness as I thought of Stephen and the heart and presence he offers now. He has felt humiliated, abandoned and frustrated and in that he has been as faithful to beg and pursue and know His God in ways all the right answers always talked about. And in that faithfulness, I believe a lot more than his head came to know of this God he spoke of as he has embodied hope against hope. And that has me just so THRILLED to see him head back out on some new paths and get the chance to be a presence and voice with others who may also be suffering and searching.  All that being said, I closed my prayer with prayers for our little household that will miss him GREATLY. I wish I were there beside him but it just isn't our season to go together, so we'll be together in Spirit as I hope for you from here.  

Blessing the sick

Listening to our bodies is such hard work. Stephen says I spend the first few days of every sickness denying I'm sick. And then i crash. And then I expect miraculous healing which turns into anger when the sickness is actually still there after 24 hours. I am now on my 7th day of feeling terrible. I have bronchitis. I don't like anyone, most especially myself. I do not heed my body well in weakness. I expect so much of it. 

Honoring when my body needs rest, or when my body needs healing, or when it can't keep pushing is one of the hardest things in the world for me. I have a history putting all that my body is telling me aside and muscling through to prove something. What I proved is that I will continue to struggle to be kind to the world in these ways as well if I cannot begin with kindness and awareness of my own body. I get sick. That doesn't mean I'm a weak person. I've always put the two together for myself feeling horribly frustrated and aggravated at every sickness for years. 

I think about the time when I was diagnosed with Crohn's. The night before I was in so much pain but kept pushing it aside because a group of friends I loved had long planned a night at the lake, so I went.  And the next morning I went into the ER, I had to fight myself all morning because I was supposed to be showering up and heading over to my goddaughter's baptism. I was so mad at my body for betraying me when I needed it to keep going for these important events. And now I know, my body had actually been screaming for a long long unacknowledged time where I coped.

That story is a far bigger story for me than this week's bronchitis. But this week's bronchitis and my reaction to it reminds me how difficult it still is for me to stop and be kind to the very strong frame I have been given, and even harder that this frame matters and needs care. So, i repeat to myself -  i get sick. It doesn't mean I'm a weak person. And even if I am weak for 7 whole days, I am still highly valuable and worthy. Greater worth I believe now will come from how I chose to treat myself and listen to myself when it needs rest. So, beginning with myself, I want to heed and bless when my body gets sick. Then I hope I return the same kindness to others when they need the space to listen and rest as well. 

Siblings (part 2) and Conference Calls

Most of our days are filled with very different realities. Even the sight to which we all wake up to, the rooms, the smells, the noises, and the demand all unique. Although we think of each other often we spend a great majority of our weeks deep in the throes of our own worlds.

Bryan wakes up about a two miles down the road from me in a small apartment with paper thin walls where he bears the sounds and smells of way too many neighbors way too close. He readies himself alone and heads down south with about a 30 minute commute that I picture is filled with a wonderful soundtrack to spend the day helping at risk individuals keep their homes, education, grocery money, heat on, etc.  What I have heard him say is the days are full, long, frustrating, interesting, and that the bigger problems feel like they never get solved. I think he is talented and compassionate and makes a difference everyday.

I picture Amy waking in one of two beds with the chance of having one or two children near and their cries being her alarm clock for the fifth year in a row. I see her open her yellow door pantry to begin heating milk, making coffee and setting the day in motion for her crew. She has a variety of different days, some offering park trips and doctors visits, and some offering coaching calls and client meetings to discuss & assess the gifts and call someone has in their life. She is kind, sacrificial, and tireless in my eyes. 

I bring them up today because it has remained difficult amidst our many many differences to know how to meet each other right now well. We hardly speak the same languages most days. But this really beautiful thing has happened as our dad has invited us every few weeks into a space of an hour where we each pick up the phone, weary from each of the travels journeyed that day, and we talk. My dad set up these calls so we could have the freedom to remember together some times that we deeply miss our mother/wife. They have been a powerful connection and healing time. The phone connects the four humans in the world who cannot forget their loss no matter what fills their days. We function and carry on as best we can but the truth in the stories we tell one another of when we suddenly find ourselves face down missing her so, they offer something so raw and sweet to each other. When Amy talks of coming home from a school meeting and wanting to tell mom all about it and hear what she would say back and the comfort that would bring, i tear up.... and picture 10 instances of my own. When Bryan talks of his wrestling with his memory of the way she had to go, i shake my head on the other line.... I know, I don't get it. When dad arrives at this annual beach trip with some dear friends and finds himself needing to leave and walk to the beach alone because the decades of memories of beach trips with mom flood his whole body as he first sees the ocean, I nod... makes so much sense. 

Its almost as if each of us are huge houses with many many rooms that are mostly decorated and occupied nothing like the others, but there is this one window that we each look out to the same garden and it is all so familiar and full to each of us. And the garden is a sacred space to visit, its fragile and tender to relay time there. But once we let one another know its like the plants blossom more fully. I'm quite grateful today for my dad's invitation and pursuit with each of us to offer this space to remember and share. 

Crazy good

This post was meant for Friday to follow up the Keeper... 

So, AFTER the Lord clearly reminded me that He is my Keeper, we had the wildest day on the market our house has ever seen. And it was such fun to step aside calmly with bruised hope to watch goodness unfold. 

After our beloved house in Charlotte was on the market for 10 months, we accepted an offer in February and it went under contract for a due diligence period. It has been such a difficult process because we love the home dearly and we are so disheartened for it to sit on the market so long and carry so much weight attached to it. So, we were relieved to be under contract until this past Wednesday the buyers changed their mind and backed out. That lead me to the previously mentioned dark low grumpy day followed by a truly divine day from wake to close. 

On Thursday, the house first day back on market, we received not one, not two, but three offers throughout the day.  While the first offer was very low, miraculously the second was asking price and the third, above asking. It just kept getting better and better.  It was CRAZY. CRAZY good. So after a bit and back and forth all day long and a few different editions of contracts, we signed a contract with a new lovely couple by the end of the day that we feel will be a good place for them and a good sale for us. 

How FUN is that? So let go a little and draw near to the Keeper. And I say that even knowing that we still have 30 more days where they can back out, but I believe no matter what, the Lord has reminded me that He sees us. 

KEEPER

This morning God woke me up and told me to get up for that still time together. I poured a big cup of coffee and sat in the quiet with a Lenten book I have been reading and this was the first thing I read:

Psalm 121

1I look up to the mountains—

from where does my help come?

2My help comes from the LORD,

who made heaven and earth!

3He will not let you stumble;

the one who keeps you will not slumber.

4Behold, he who keeps Israel

never slumbers or sleeps.

5The LORD is your keeper!

The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade.

6The sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon at night.

7The lord will keep you from all evil;

and will keep your life.

8The LORD will keep your going out and your coming,

both now and forever.

And I took a long warm comforting sip and thought, oh my goodness. My help comes from YOU, MAKER of HEAVEN and EARTH. Not nutella or Downton or running or my own guts or wit or know how or whatever, while temporarily good & pleasing, MY HELP comes from my faithful KEEPER.  And if I am to actually BELIEVE in this KEEPER, I cannot forfeit my trust when the keeping feels unsatisfactory to me. In fact, it has OFTEN felt unsatisfactory to trust goodness in the last few years, I do not actually feel protected from all evil.  I have been eager to muster my own strength and mend, but the tireless provision and presence even though it hasn't looked like what I requested, has been tangible. It has been painful and lonely and long and seemingly illogical, but I believe my keeper has seen me and is holding me in my strife and loss and confusion and grief. I would have changed SO much of the keeping.  But still I believe my coming and going is seen, and it is time I actually attempt rest, because it is not all mine to mend. 

Thank you LORD for giving me the quiet and these words this morning.

(and friends, i cannot wait to tell you what happened the rest of the day, it is sweet! that is for tomorrow)