The Second Step

My husband and I have been married for 7 wonderful years. He had two tattoos when I met him, and to be honest they weren’t really an “issue”. We really never talked about them. One is on his shoulder and the other massive one is one his back. So, I guess they were “hidden”. Nothing for me to think about or to worry about. About 3 years ago he mentioned that he wanted to get another one. I was shocked. I too had a tattoo and I associated it with an extremely rebellious time in my life. I’ve even considered having it removed.  And…I certainly did not want another one!  So why should he want one? We are married right? We are one. We should be thinking exactly the same way. Clearly. This is just a faze, it will pass. So…about 6 months later the tattoo question came up again, but this time with a little more seriousness and less sarcasm. I looked at him like he was crazy. We are parents, parents don’t do this sort of thing. We live in the suburbs…hello?! But this time my sweet husband was persistent.

But, once again the conversation lay dormant for awhile. Until, one day he came home and I thought something bad had happened, he had such a serous look in his eyes. He asked me to listen. Uh oh…so I did. His exact words to me were, “I want you to really consider me getting another tattoo.” I saw the look in his eye and realized that he had been thinking about this for a very long time. This was hard for him to bring up with me. He already knew how I felt. I was very quiet. This began a very long conversation. What are you going to get? Where? On the lower arms? Oh my! It’s funny how that affected me. What are people going to think? What is my dad going to think? Wow, this was hard. Did I mention that we live in good ole suburbia America? People don’t have those here. Should we move to the city? The dialogue continued for another 6 months and something happened, I began to really understand why. It’s very simple, he likes them. The more I talked with him about it, the more I really saw that this is how he is. He is not some guy who just thinks it’s cool to have a tat. It’s him, in a way, it’s his personality.

It’s funny how for 7 years I have wanted him to fit my mold of who a husband should be. Having a tattoo will not take away from him, but instead add to him. It will make him more of who he is. I’m excited now about the new tattoos, yes there is an s on the end of that.

Amazing how a heart can change.

I have been a runner for about 20 years. I don’t compete, I’m not fast, I just like to run. I run with a group that has been together for about five years. And, in that five years we have run the same course. The same course every week, every week, the same road. The “loop” we call it. However, the loop never gets boring because we fill our time with lots and lots of conversation. We talk about anything and everything. Through the years we have cried together, celebrated together, had babies, lost parents, you name it. So, we just put it on auto pilot and run, not really thinking about the path just running and talking.

This year in my life, I realized I needed a new path. I feel like I have been on auto pilot. I don’t want to keep running on the same road. I’m not sure what that means, but it is a pull, a gentle nudge if you will to do something. I’m not saying that this is some mid life crisis and that I am going to jump out of a plane or go live in India for 6 months. I just feel like doing more. Giving more of myself. Dieing to myself more. Learning more. Living more. It’s really hard to put into words. But, I’m excited to see where this new road will take me.

This past year has probably been the worst year of my life. So many personal struggles, and yet I am still running. The funny thing is…is that I will probably have a worse year, and maybe even another after that. I can’t even imagine. But, if I stay on this road it will just take me back around the loop, I need a new direction. So, I am earnestly seeking what that direction is. I am humbled like never before, and I’m ready. A wise woman once told me that her son had broken his collar bone. The doctors told them that once the collar bone has been broken, it can never be broken in that spot again. My last year feels like that. I have been so broken, SO broken…but I am healed and can never be broken that way again. I’m very grateful for that. I can not wait to see the new path. It’s like I’m just standing at a road wondering which direction to take. Scary…but yet exciting.

My son is the absolutely slowest person on the planet. He is never in any hurry what so ever. I know that it is partially because of his age, but man, it takes us forever to get anywhere! It’s a good thing I stay at home with him, because we would be late for EVERYTHING.

I have never seen my son more excited than on his 4th birthday. He was so proud and so happy. It was like he had arrived at something. He began telling me that he liked certain foods now that he was four. “I can do it all by myself, because I’m four.” “I couldn’t do that when I was three right? But now I can because I’m four.” “I was three for a really long time huh mom?”

 Turning four was monumental. We began talking about his very first birthday party and who was all there. He was thrilled to look back at the pictures to find the very same people at his 4th birthday party! And that is when it hit me. He…is…four…  I began looking at all of the four years worth of pictures. I looked at so many pictures of him as a baby, and those first few years. All I could think about was how hurried I have become. It seems like I say hurry up so many times in one day. “Let’s hurry and get your teeth brushed,” “hurry up Luke we have to get dressed for school”. “Hurry up and eat your dinner.” “Get in you car seat, and hurry up or we will be late.” Even on days that we don’t go anywhere I find myself telling my now little boy to hurry.

Looking back on those pictures made me realize that I don’t want to be in a hurry. I can’t even begin to tell you where three went and I certainly don’t want to forget four. So even though he is slow going, now I can take more pictures with my mind of all the details I don’t want to forget.

I once heard a man refer to his wife as a “there you are” person, and I have never been able to get that out of my mind. What a great thing to say about someone. What a great thing to have someone say about you. So I began to watch and listen to people and this is what I came up with:

I remember going on a date in college. I came back and my roommate said, “So how was it?” “Great!” I said. She asked me all these questions about him, to which I could give no answer. But, I really liked this guy. How could I like him if I didn’t even know him? It’s because he knew what Dale Carnegie says…”You can make more friends in two months by becoming more interested in other people than you can in two years by trying to get people interested in you”
I love me some Dale!

For the last 4 years a group of us girls have been meeting at Starbucks to run. Afterward, we always sit for about 15-20 minutes to have coffee and visit. It truly is the best part of my day. It’s early, but my friends are tried and true and I can always count on them to be there. We have seen many baristas come and go and all of them learn our drinks very quickly.

Well, every morning since I can remember, there has been a man sitting at the same table drinking a cup of coffee. He sits and smiles at everyone, while reading his paper. We began to talk to him more and more each morning. He was always so nice, and never wanted to take away from our cherished girl time. However, you could tell he was lonely. After about 2 weeks we all noticed that this man was not at his usual table. Unfortunately, we knew nothing about him to know why. About a month or so later he showed back up again, only looking quite different. He had dropped about 50 or so pounds and was almost in a confused like state. Come to find out he had suffered previously from a major stroke and had just recently had another one. He had been in rehab and was basically learning how to do things all over. His speech was now delayed and he had to really think about what he was trying to say.

So this began our new routine at Starbucks: to find out how he was progressing and how therapy was going for him. This man, whose name we still did not know, was so excited to be alive. He was happy to have been given a new leash on life and he was not afraid to share it with you. He wanted everyone to stay away from fatty foods, and to exercise….regularly! A couple of years have gone by and still I see him every morning reading his paper. The amazing quality about this man is his incredible way of sharing his life with us. He does not hold back. He tells us everything, details include that he is on a new medicine that makes him urinate himself. He says this with such pride and confidence. Pride that he is not ashamed and confident that he is ok.

I’m amazed at how much this stranger becomes so vulnerable with us. But, that is not the most amazing part, it’s how vulnerable I become right back. When he asks me how I’m doing, it’s because he really wants to know. I find myself telling him all kinds of remotely privy information. And I don’t even know his name. To me he’s just the Starbucks Man.

So I’m having a clown party for my soon to be four year old and am trying to put together a costume. I do not sew, so I have to be very creative with getting this clown thing put together. I just need to run to the fabric store for a few things to finish things up. I never spend much time in the acutally fabric section of the store, why would I? Instead, my son and I look at decorations and put silly things on our head. I find what I need and proceed to the cutting area. While waiting, I notice a very paticular phenonion. All the women before me are telling the fabric people all about what they are going to sew. Who cares!? For crying out loud, just get your fabric and go home and make your blanket for you cousin’s, husband’s new little baby. I was not really bothered by this, I was only thinking of the poor girl who just wants her shift to be over so she can go to Starbucks and check her messages. Then it was my turn. I plop my fun polka dot, and shiny red fabric on the table. The girl looks at me and says, “Wheww…nice” And that’s all it took… and out it came. I told her all about our clown party and Luke’s cute little overalls, and how I was going to make a bow, and look at these fun patches. Oh-my-gosh, I couldn’t stop. Somebody needed to help me. I was so excited. Excited to share this joy with someone! Someone who really cares about my silly little clown costume.

Ok, so Luke and I go to a birthday party at Build-A- Bear. I’m not sure what to expect, except I know I don’t have to pay for any of the shenanigans. So excited that my son and I get to experience all this show biz, we get to the party. Luke grabbed a brown bear, then was told to grab a heart and name his bear. “Heart”, he decides…great… on to the stuffing. Next came the fun bath and then picking out the clothes…

Hmm…Should I be worried?

I have to say, that I have the best, best friend. There is nothing better than having a best friend. Not just someone to talk to, or laugh with or someone who is in your wedding, but someone that loves you in such a way that it hurts. A real authentic love that goes so deep, that it can never, ever go away. I have that. And I know that it is rare. I often see the token saying, “A friend is someone that knows everything about you but loves you anyway”. Although, I believe that to be true, my best friends loves me right. She loves me real. She loves me hard. She knows the right questions to ask me. She doesn’t settle for mediocrity in our relationship.

I met her in college and she often jokes that she invited me into her apartment and I never left. It’s true. She was what I needed. I read once that women are always in a constant state of judgment about themselves. So, we need real love, we need affirmation. She not only gave me that, she taught me that.

We have always had an uncanny way of just laughing. Sometimes, we would stay up all night and just laugh. We can go into a dollar store and laugh until our bellies hurt. Anyone who can make you laugh all the time is special, because just face it…sometimes we just don’t feel like laughing. My best friend has a way of knowing the truth about me even when I don’t. She sees to my soul. She is not afraid to confront me on hard issues, she loves me. To know that no matter what, I can not escape her affection for me is overwhelming. She always tells me, always shows me, she is always there. I once received a card from her. After reading the beautiful words about being a friend she writes, “You are my most perfect accomplishment in life. I sought out for a friend, and I found a treasure! I love you, I aspire to be like you, I need you in my life! Thank you for allowing me in your world! Robie.”
I told you…she is the best, best.

Listening to a sermon this morning it occurred to me that I really, really love to learn about the theology. The pastor spoke on James 4:1-13; Worldliness. In prepping his talk he use the word Hêdonê (aka hedonism) He unpacked that some and I found that I wanted to hear more. I just really find theology fascinating. When I hear teaching about dispensationalism, eschatology, or Calvinism I get pumped up.
I picked up a book on the 5 points of Calvinism recently, and never before have I ever wanted to read my bible more. It seemed to make my bible come alive. I began to listen to sermons and read articles on various theological topics. Then, it hit me. I am a wife and a mother… shouldn’t I be reading a book on “Understanding Your Toddler”, or “Potty Training Guide”, or something on Proverbs 31? I actually began to feel guilty because I simply did not want to read those books.

So I went through a period of beating myself up because I felt that I was not doing my part as a mother or wife. I was not researching for the part so to speak. Getting frustrated that my three year old was not leaning to go potty, I threw my hands in the air. I needed help. Maybe I should read more books on this potty training thing. I felt like a failure. I was doing everything I knew how to do. I had taken all my mommy friends advice, I was patient, I gave rewards, encouraged, watched, waited…but still nothing! My son simply did not want to go. It was a test of wills. Mine against his. How could I convince him that this was going to be such a better lifestyle. He was scared of change and intimidated by his ignorance. I was very concerned for him. I just began to pray. Lord would you please give me wisdom on how to train this child? Put words in my mouth that would make a difference for him.

I then remembered something I had read about Total Depravity. That not only are we (man) only and always sinning, but that man cannot understand the good. This was my son, he could not understand the good, it had not been revealed to him. No matter how many bribes, or how much hype, he just wasn’t ready. He could not see the good. Somehow his heart had become hardened to this idea of “going potty”. He needed a new way of thinking. “If a man is not regenerated, he cannot understand”, the book said. The cause of his rejection was not merely not wanting to go potty, but it was the blindness, darkness, and hardness of his heart. He did not want to, because he didn’t want to. I continued to pray for him. I was very thankful for my little reading on Total Depravity. It made it so clear to me that I am just like him. The blindness, darkness, and hardness of my heart can only be taken away by God. If I desire to ask God to help me, it is only because it is God who is working in me to do it. I am continually and will always be Amazed by His Grace!

Philippians 2:12-13 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your won salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.