The Things We Wait For...

In May, my grandmother, Margaret Parker, turned 90.

Since finishing my doctoral studies, I've been making more of an effort to dedicate time to my creative writing.  As part of my focused writing time, I recently finished a draft of a short story, one that details the events of the evening we surprised Mommom for her 90th birthday.

Turns out--and I didn't know this when I decided we should throw her a surprise party--turns out she waited 90 years for a real birthday party.




Now before you get too upset at this injustice--make no mistake, my family celebrated Mommom's birthday every year.

But it was always a low-key, immediate family only, cake and ice cream routine.

Had I known Mommom had never had a real birthday party, I would have suggested to my mother that we throw her a big one years ago.

But I didn't know.  And so I found out that night, a couple days before her actual birthday, when she gave a speech thanking us all for coming, and noting that she'd never had a real birthday party.

I found myself tearing up during her speech, and now, coming back to that moment, I think about the other things we spend our lives waiting for, maybe without even realizing we're missing out.

Are you waiting to be celebrated?

To be loved and accepted for who you are?

To come to Jesus?

Are you waiting to forgive someone?  To exercise grace in your own life?

Maybe you're waiting for the next big thing around the corner, without stopping to be in this moment, to give thanks for all you've currently got?

I don't know what you're waiting for--courage to take your next step, whatever that might be?

A big, life-changing event?  One that will inspire you to finally do everything you always thought you would?  Those things that have faded into the background, those things that maybe you'll get to someday?

We won't all get 90 years.  I pray that you will, if longevity is a goal of yours.

But I'm guessing that if you think about it, there's something you're waiting for, somebody you're waiting on, or some experience you're missing out on, maybe without even realizing what you've been missing.

Suggestion of the day:  Don't wait.

Nine Years Later...

Yesterday, we celebrated my daughter's ninth birthday.

Nine.

I swear, I don't know where the time goes.  It seems like it could not have been that it was nearly a decade ago that I found out I was pregnant.  I can't believe I've been a parent for nine whole years.  It hardly seems possible, when I can close my eyes and remember so clearly the way her smooth cheek felt against mine as I held her close and rocked her to sleep.  All those milestones rush by--first smile, first words, first steps... first day of school, first report card, first dance recital.... soon we'll be into the perilous world of middle school, and it will be all I can do not to have a complete and total nervous breakdown, as I KNOW what happens in middle school.

Sometimes I don't feel like I'm even a grown-up yet.  But then, I think about the fact that I have a nine-year-old-- a smart, healthy, generally well-mannered nine-year-old daughter... and I guess that I must have grown up myself somewhere along the way.

Out of all the women out there who could have probably done it better, God blessed me by picking me to be her mom.

I'm not the super organized soccer mom who's the queen of scheduling.

I'm not the all-organic health food nut who makes sure there's no sugar in the house or in her kid's diet.

But I am a mom whose imperfect love is all my child needs, by the grace of God.

What our children need more than stuff, is us.

So yesterday, the day after her birthday party, and the very first day of summer break, we had a mommy/daughter day.  We went to Bethany Beach in the midst of summer tourist season, because that was where my daughter wanted to go (and even though I've been boycotting them in the summer season due to a ridiculously unfair parking ticket two seasons ago, I agreed, because it was what my daughter wanted).

We ate D.B. Fries.  I lounged on the beach while she frolicked in the ocean.  We had smoothies from TCBY.  It was an ordinary day, but a beautiful one.

When we got home to pick up Daddy to go out to a family dinner, she commented, "This is the best day of my life."

Not the day before, fun as it was, spent at a horse stable and lavished with gifts from us and her friends.

Just the simple gift of being together and doing what she wanted to do.  That was enough.

Thank you, Kaliah, for being my daughter. You always remind me what the best things in life are.  If I never did anything else again in this world, I still would leave it happy, knowing that I brought you into it.

Happy Birthday, my love.

Happy Birthday to A Beautiful Friend!

I have discovered a whole new meaning of the idea of "old."

If you have a lifelong friend, think about the amount of time he or she has been in your life.  For me, I'm just on the other side of thirty. 

And my closest friend whom I've known the longest is celebrating her 32nd birthday today.  Cheers, Kristin! 

So, considering the average lifespan, we're still relatively young.  Or at least, that's how I feel.

But then I realized... having met on the playground in second grade:

We have been friends for TWENTY FIVE YEARS.

That's over twice as long as most of my students have been alive.

It's a quarter century.  Our friendship is the same age as someone who has been legally allowed to drink for the past four years.

If our friendship was an automobile operator, it would now be eligible for cheaper insurance.

As old as this makes me feel, I wouldn't change it for anything.  If you are lucky enough to have a friendship like this one, you understand it's like a favorite pair of jeans.  You can go weeks or even months without any in-depth contact, but the moment you slip back in, it's a perfect fit.  We don't have to talk every day to get right back into the real stuff when we see each other.  Kristin has always been there for me.  We've laughed and cried together.  We remained friends not only throughout grade school through graduation, but went to college together, too, living as roommates for our freshman and sophomore years.

It's hard to believe that it's been ten years since our college graduation.

It's all been said before.  Time flies.  Time waits for no man.  There's nothing new or profound I could write to capture it any better than the millions of writers, artists, and others who have already done it before me.

But if you haven't considered lately, take a moment and do so:

Are you treasuring the gift that is your time?

It's so easy to forget that it's a present-- in the midst of hectic work weeks, looming deadlines, jam packed schedules.  I am guilty of trying to merely "make it through" a day or a week or even a month, looking forward to the next Saturday or the next special occasion or the next anything.  But the truth is, doing that is the same as wishing your life away.

Instead of trying to make it through, we should be trying to make the most of every moment.

Because tomorrows aren't guaranteed.  Nothing is certain in this life, and very few things are forever.

Thanks for being a forever friend, Kris.  I love you.

 

Kristin and I, 1999.  From our junior year in high school, courtesy of the IRHS yearbook.

 

 

                                                   And our most recent girl's night.  2013.