My husband and I were on our patio last night, watching the kittens that live there, protected from possums and other dangers (and themselves) by a 1 1/2 foot tall plywood pen. I happened to notice a beetle who was trying to climb the plywood wall of the kitten's nursery.
From a beetle's point view, that wall must have been monumental. But here he was, 3/4's of the way up, the embodiment of tenacity. And then he fell. Right on his back. Legs flailing, absolutely stuck. He eventually made it to his feet and headed straight back to that wall. I remarked about it to my husband and he said he had been watching, too. This was already the beetle's 3rd attempt to climb the wall.
Why? I wondered. He doesn't know what's over there. What drives that beetle to keep doing a task that must seem impossible?
Almost to the top this time, the beetle fell again, again landing on his back and again flipped over and went right back to the wall. He only made it 1/2 way this time and was back on the ground.
It looked like he'd had enough. Turning 90 degrees, he continued on across the porch.
Why did he try so hard and then stop? What makes him recognize that this was a battle he wasn't going to win and choose a different path.
I would really like to know, because I feel like the beetle; trying to proceed on a course that offers no encouragement, nothing but resistance. How much is Godly persistence and how much is foolish stubbornness? When do you say,"Time to try something different"?
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
What happened (part 2)?
Being a mommy was way better than I ever imagined. Jason was so easy - sweet and loving and never any trouble. Occasionally you would see a narrow defiant streak, but so rarely you could almost forget it was there. He was beautiful and funny. He loved his stuffed animals more than any other toys.
When he was 3 months old we moved to another state. It was a point in my personal life of deep trouble - domestically, emotionally - and I found great comfort in the day-to-day responsibilities of taking care of my boy. We were each other's company and spent lots of time at the park and the library, exploring our new city and learning to make friends.
When Jason was 2, we made another big move - back where we came from - and a year later I found that I was pregnant. I have so many images in my brain of that time. Taking a walk because I felt so sick, and the house was so unpleasant, and then being unable to get back home - Jason's concerned face.
It was at this time that we bought some land and decided to build a house. My pregnancy was difficult and I had to spend a lot of time laying on my left side. Jason learned to work the new VCR and TV (we didn't have one before), and watched his one video of Mickey Mouse over and over.
Andrew was born and Grandma and Jason's favorite person in the world - his aunt - took care of him. I will dwell on this part a little, because it may be a clue to the direction Jason took in his later life. And since there's no point in not being totally honest, this may be where things began to go wrong.
Andrew was not at all like Jason (of course) and his care was more taxing. As I look back on it now, I should have been more aware of how it would impact Jason to have somebody else taking an unequal amount of my time - time that had been solely his. It was also here that we decided to build on our land. My in-laws moved into our 2 bedroom duplex with us, as well as a family friend who helped us build. We were all busier than we had ever been with no alone time, because of our restricted living quarters. I am certain that the change from our easy, Jason-centered life style to non-stop-from-morning-to-late-attention-elsewhere had to be a shock to the little guy. The pictures I see of him from this time seem to suggest sadness. I wish I had seen it at the time.
When he was 3 months old we moved to another state. It was a point in my personal life of deep trouble - domestically, emotionally - and I found great comfort in the day-to-day responsibilities of taking care of my boy. We were each other's company and spent lots of time at the park and the library, exploring our new city and learning to make friends.
When Jason was 2, we made another big move - back where we came from - and a year later I found that I was pregnant. I have so many images in my brain of that time. Taking a walk because I felt so sick, and the house was so unpleasant, and then being unable to get back home - Jason's concerned face.
It was at this time that we bought some land and decided to build a house. My pregnancy was difficult and I had to spend a lot of time laying on my left side. Jason learned to work the new VCR and TV (we didn't have one before), and watched his one video of Mickey Mouse over and over.
Andrew was born and Grandma and Jason's favorite person in the world - his aunt - took care of him. I will dwell on this part a little, because it may be a clue to the direction Jason took in his later life. And since there's no point in not being totally honest, this may be where things began to go wrong.
Andrew was not at all like Jason (of course) and his care was more taxing. As I look back on it now, I should have been more aware of how it would impact Jason to have somebody else taking an unequal amount of my time - time that had been solely his. It was also here that we decided to build on our land. My in-laws moved into our 2 bedroom duplex with us, as well as a family friend who helped us build. We were all busier than we had ever been with no alone time, because of our restricted living quarters. I am certain that the change from our easy, Jason-centered life style to non-stop-from-morning-to-late-attention-elsewhere had to be a shock to the little guy. The pictures I see of him from this time seem to suggest sadness. I wish I had seen it at the time.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
What happened?
Jason was my first born. I was a very young 21 year old, married to an engineer and very excited about our baby on the way. The way one is about the release of a long awaited movie. I had no concept of what was about to happen to me.
Labor was much, much harder than I had been led to believe by my idealistic doctor (who, by the way, was a man - what did he know?) 14 hours, but 4 of them were pushing. Turns out I had a very large baby - 10 lbs., 1/2 ounce. He was whisked away from me almost before I got to see what he looked like. Jaundice, low blood sugar, a spot on his lungs - these were all things that we faced right away. I was so out of it, and so delighted to be DONE that I didn't miss him yet. Then they let me see him in his warming bed later that day. I've had almost 28 years to think about that moment, and I can't really define the emotional transformation that happened then. I do know it can't be over-stated. Unconditional love, deep and permanent. I was profoundly changed and felt different than I ever had before. That change doesn't go away, no matter what.
Labor was much, much harder than I had been led to believe by my idealistic doctor (who, by the way, was a man - what did he know?) 14 hours, but 4 of them were pushing. Turns out I had a very large baby - 10 lbs., 1/2 ounce. He was whisked away from me almost before I got to see what he looked like. Jaundice, low blood sugar, a spot on his lungs - these were all things that we faced right away. I was so out of it, and so delighted to be DONE that I didn't miss him yet. Then they let me see him in his warming bed later that day. I've had almost 28 years to think about that moment, and I can't really define the emotional transformation that happened then. I do know it can't be over-stated. Unconditional love, deep and permanent. I was profoundly changed and felt different than I ever had before. That change doesn't go away, no matter what.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Promises
When Jesus died on the cross (let's call it Friday), the grief that his friends felt must have been overwhelming. Their lives were so tied to His. Yes, He had warned them it was going to happen, but you can never really be prepared for sudden loss, no matter how much you think you are, it's been my experience.
In a couple of days, Jesus came back from the dead. Just as He had promised. Over and over.
But what about that day in between - Saturday? How many minutes does that day contain where the sorrow was so debilitating that thought and life is just impossible? I'm sure the promises Jesus made to His friends were played over in their minds. I'm sure they really tried to remember that. But then, you look over at the spot where He usually sat, or waited for the His response in a conversation, and He's not there. That's a lot of minutes. A lot of time to miss somebody.
That's what I'm doing. I'm living on Saturday - the day between grief and promise fulfilled.
When Jesus died on the cross (let's call it Friday), the grief that his friends felt must have been overwhelming. Their lives were so tied to His. Yes, He had warned them it was going to happen, but you can never really be prepared for sudden loss, no matter how much you think you are, it's been my experience.
In a couple of days, Jesus came back from the dead. Just as He had promised. Over and over.
But what about that day in between - Saturday? How many minutes does that day contain where the sorrow was so debilitating that thought and life is just impossible? I'm sure the promises Jesus made to His friends were played over in their minds. I'm sure they really tried to remember that. But then, you look over at the spot where He usually sat, or waited for the His response in a conversation, and He's not there. That's a lot of minutes. A lot of time to miss somebody.
That's what I'm doing. I'm living on Saturday - the day between grief and promise fulfilled.
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