Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Every Family Has "Stuff"

Bad stuff. Hard stuff. Stuff they wouldn't choose, if they somehow had a choice. Issues that are challenging...painful...heart-rending to deal with.

I've been reminded recently of this basic fact of life--that every family has such issues--as I've spent more time than usual talking with and listening to family and friends during this holiday season...and as I've heard the stories of the "stuff" their particular family is encountering.

Several thoughts stand out to me from all this conversation and contemplation:

1. You don't always get to choose your stuff. In fact, you rarely get to choose it; rather, it's often forced on you by the choices and actions of others whom you cannot control but whose lives affect you because of the bonds of love. You don't really get to choose cancer over depression, or heart disease over Alzheimer's as you age...or perhaps even harder, you don't get to choose it for your parents as they age...and, harder still at times, you don't get to choose what kind of treatment (if any) they pursue for their ailments. You don't get to choose a brother who is jobless over one who is a drunk. You don't get to choose a child with his or her marriage on the rocks over a child who dies in a traffic accident. In many of these situations, no one gets to choose it...but in some situations, there are some very definite choices that lead to undesirable consequences. And yet, you can't make anyone do the right thing. You can, however, suffer along with them when they do the wrong thing. But you can't think, "Oh, our family has so many problems; and if we were just like that family over there, things would be so much better." The truth is, they have stuff, too.

2. It's a good thing we don't know the future. If I knew the hard things that await me in the future, I think it would be nearly impossible to live joyfully in the present. The trials to come would steal virtually every ounce of joy from life now and in the interim. When we marry, and especially when we become parents, we agree to let our heart walk around outside our body; and that's a very vulnerable position for a heart. If I knew now what Josiah (or David or Tobin or baby-in-my-womb) will someday do to hurt my heart, I don't know if I could take it. It's such a relief to leave the future in the only set of hands big enough to hold it: our Creator and Sustainer's.

3. With all of that in mind, I find it even more imperative to constantly remember that each day is a gift. I think this is going to be one of the huge themes of this coming year for me--this remembrance of the infinite treasure to be found in each day, this daily decision to not wish life away, to not look to the future with so much longing that I'm blinded to the daily gems scattered around me. But the hard part about all of this is that sometimes the gems are covered in poop and, consequently, very difficult to recognize. In the midst of the exhausting work of mothering young children, may I never forget to cling to these moments and to thank God for each one of them, knowing that the sands of time are slipping away, never to return.

Jeff told me last night that so many people he meets through the barber shop tell him that the best time of life is when the children are younger than 10 years of age. I don't entirely agree with that since I believe with earnest hope that my children's teen years and young adult years (and older adult years, too!) can be full of joy and laughter and trust and love and respect and deepening, maturing relationship between parent and child. However, I think I understand the point. Now, with our children all at home, we don't have the ache of seeing the empty place at the table. We don't have to wonder where our children are and if they're OK. The obedience issues and attitude problems we deal with now are on a much smaller level than they might be in the future. We glow with joy as we listen to our children pray and hear them sing made-up songs of praise from their hearts to God, and we don't agonize over the one who has detoured away from a relationship with his Heavenly Father. The "stuff" we deal with now, in the lives of our children, is so much smaller than the stuff that may await us in the future (although, of course, we sometimes deal with hard stuff in the lives of other members of our families: parents, siblings, etc.). It really is a golden time; and I pause these days to watch my children more, to lean over their beds an extra time to kiss their sleeping faces; and I want to whisper, "Stay little a while longer, OK?"

As I read back over this, it strikes me as having a pessimistic tone; and yet, that's not my intention. I would, however, feel extremely pessimistic if not for my unshakable trust in God's unimaginable power and unfathomable love for me that moves His heart to exercise His power on my behalf! With that, I walk forward confidently, not being paralyzed by fear about what the future may bring. As the old King James Version that I memorized as a child says, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me." Death--or things in life which seem even worse than death--cannot rip me from the grip of God's sheltering hand; and with that knowledge, I hold the fear away.

As tears roll down my cheeks now, let me change the subject and mention some of the GREAT stuff we have in our family! About 12 years ago, my brother David was so full of wisdom that he decided to marry Lori (and let me just mention that I knew her before he did, and I knew they should get married before he did!); and one of the fringe benefits of that tremendous decision was the opportunity to get to know Lori's parents, Alan and Jean. A yearly ritual that we look forward to with much anticipation is their annual pilgrimage from the cold of Pennsylvania to the warmth of Florida. Why do we look forward to that (rather than being jealous that we don't get to go to Florida, too?) :) Because they always stop on their way south to spend a night with my parents, and we get to have them here in our home for supper on that night! It's a joy to spend time with them, and we would be sorely disappointed if they changed their route one year and didn't come our way! :)

To end this post on a happy note, here are some pictures of our sweet Tobin tonight...
...first, with Alan (and I love the way Tobin's little hand is resting on Alan's watch; Tobin is quick to find interesting objects like that to touch--and usually, to try to yank off the watch-wearer's arm!)...
...and then with Jean who had started playing peekaboo with him and was making him laugh over and over with simple delight (making some of his hearers think or declare that there is no sound in the world so sweet as a child's laughter)...
...and with all of them together. We're so grateful for these fine folks and are indeed blessed to have them as part of the very good "stuff" in our lives!

6 comments:

Unknown said...

Hello Davene, and happy new year! I loved reading this post, and didn't think you sound at all pessimistic. Just sensible and real and thoughtful. I guess I learned the lesson about families all having issues when my sister died. All of a sudden people who seemed to have 'perfect' families shared their losses, or sadnesses. And it also does make it clear how parents (and often siblings) have to stand back when watching someone they love making choices that don't seem to make sense. And of course there's no guarantee that any of us will be about next year, or even next month or next week. It's worth paying in mind how fortunate we are just to be here and surrounded by so many good things. And of course your Tobin is lovely! (I love the name, too, by the way.)

Anonymous said...

We definitely do all have "stuff".

On that note, I've just awarded you the Beary Sweet Blog Award, for being real on-line (among other things).

Emily Joy said...

Hi Davene! I've got the same award for you at my blog. Have fun blogging!

Sally said...

Thanks for this post, Davene. You're right. So many things we don't get to choose. I can't tell you how many times people have told me (especially when I worked as a nurse) how they wanted to die (in their sleep, quick, before they got disabled, etc.), but I don't know of one person yet who got to choose how they died. Does anyone think that the person who slowly, painfully, inch-by-inch passes away does so because they CHOSE to? Think, people, think! And, one of the very hardest things for me this year has been becoming a diabetic. And, when someone says to me, "I just couldn't do that, I would die before I became a diabetic", it is painful for me to hear. Did I choose to become a diabetic? Think, think, THINK people! No one chooses this stuff. It's the mercy of God if you have good health, and it will be by the mercy of God if you can die peacefully, painlessly, and before you become bedridden. It isn't your choice. However, it is your choice to rely on God's strength for every trial and burden. I guess this is a bit long, but it came to mind.

Lisa and Keith said...

thanks for your post! Sweet pictures! :)

Margie said...

Davene, this post brought pretty heavy tears to my eyes. I plan to come back and re-read it periodically for the wisdom it contains.

By the way, my Christmas present to Wayne was a night away - our first since we've had kids. Thanks for the inspiration!