Got Me?

It’s almost a year ago now that I logged my first post on bh.

Less than 365 days ago, my ecstatic children were blitzed out on cheese balls and body surfed Virginia Beach whitecaps. We huddled together in a sleazy ocean front motel like it was Cinderella’s castle as happy there together as a honeymoon couple and completely inoculated by the joy of possibilities.

We were at the beach, baby, and no amount of sand or windburn could dampen the elation housed in that little Eco-Lounge den. I can remember the discovery of unexpected secrets about my children there, and how when Far Far Away together they were more unified as friends and confidants. As I reported then, there’s little privacy when six family members share one hotel room.

July abdicated to August this past Saturday night and found us in another cheap hotel room together for an entirely new purpose, this time a Holiday Inn chosen because its chain welcomes pets, and of course, our two cats were part of the caravan from Here to There.

That was the day that we began the journey of God’s new call on our lives in the Land of Citrus.

As many of you know, this new beginning seasoned in the barrel of dense family process before it decanted action.  The cup now poured has begun to breathe.

Insomnia courted me again that night we reached the Holiday Inn closest to the midpoint of the journey like a jealous lover. I was its captive date among the sleeping noises of my beloved family. Once again, I learned many things about them in the room that night as the cats marched likes grunts on a hostile recon mission.

The Baby whistled in her sleep, a breathy percussion like a locomotive puffing up mountainous tracks. She stirred and tossed her head as she played the scales of her dream engine like a child at violin practice. Her baby face painted a portrait of innocence on her pillow case canvas. When did she get so tall and lean? Her coltish legs, brown and bruised, were tawny from swimming and tag. Even in the still of sleep, she looked ready to leap.

Unbeknownst to The Boy, he terrorized his nocturnal feline. Every time his beloved River returned to his corner of the room for comfort or in hope of a pat, he growled a ruffle-bumble that snorted like an irritated horse. This scared and confused his cat at every checkpoint, and once she jumped back in such outraged, feline surprise that I had to muffle my laughter with the pillow. I often forget that The Boy is now man-big and he often scares me when I catch his stranger profile in the room with me. That night, my terror was complete as his baritone clearly proclaimed, “I have to move to our new home…!”

I’m still not sure who he was talking to as he hibernated, but he was as earnest as Hemingway and sounded ready to run with the bulls.

The Oldest Girl talks in her sleep. As I prayed for her, I watched her eyes pace back and forth, her closed lids like sentinels on a wall. At one point, she sat straight up in bed with her right arm extended as if in praise and said, “Please!”

Whom did she petition?
I hope her prayer was answered.
I so want this heavenly girl to live happy ever after.

The Middle Girl? The Middle Girl grinds her teeth at night.

Loudly.
Often.
Ouch!

I couldn’t help but imagine the gruff grumble of Jack’s giant, “Fee-fi-fo-fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman! 
Be he alive, or be he dead, 
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!”

The Middle Girl internalizes her experience. I pray space for her voice and truth through this transition.

The Husband is silent.
A wall of comfort and provision.
Certain,
steady,
and at rest.
He is my  warm blanket and guaranteed security.

The Husband is neither surprised nor grumpy when I wake him at 3:28 a.m. to tell him, “Cant sleep, will you hold me for a little while?”

“You got me?” I ask him.

“I got you.”

“Sure?”

“I got you, baby.”

And Our Father does too.
And His plan is to prosper and not to harm us.
And it’s a good plan, not easy, but good.
And I have faith small as a mustard seed.
And I can say to Geography, “Move from here to there and it will be.”

I left one place.

I did not leave home.

I am His.
And his.
And theirs.
And yours.

I’m right here.

Love wins.

Well baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew ya
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah!

My Crying Shoulder

Though it makes prefect sense that I resist the inevitable escalation of grief as the day of our departure lurks as assiduously as I decline a good pork pull with slaw served on a Wonder Bread bun, I feel the coward that my girls were away when the reality of our timeline slapped them like the briny brace of the Artic Ocean.

On the other hand, I rejoice that they were able to release some of their pent up heartache away from me and able to purge anger and woe without me as a filter or audience.

One of the many things I know that I cannot see clearly is how exactly I will help them all navigate this transition. God of Mercy, Father Love, I trust you will direct me.

I return to the mantra Trust.
I Trust Him with my heart.
I Trust Him with my thoughts.
I Trust Him with my Marriage.
I Trust Him with my children.
I Trust His Goodness.
I Trust His Faithfulness.

I stretch to rejoice this trial and allow Him to train me through this as He has begun to guide me to be sensitive to His prompts and obedient to their calls upon my life.

I rejoice how abundantly He has blessed me with contact and context.

He is my Provision and perfectly portions my daily bread.

He’s my crying shoulder.

I thank Him for his unflinching constancy and perfect Patience. I marvel how He embraces my rabbit nature.

He baffles me again and again, my Maverick Jesus, the most Revolutionary teacher this side of Eden.

I pray that He allows me to be of good use as we walk out this move together and partner me with the Supernatural gifts that I will surely require to be the Mamma they need right now.

Ah, me, so much Love…

so much LOVE is HE!

Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do ya?
Well it goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah!

Declaration of Pubertyence

Dearest The Boy,

One score less thirteen years, three months ago, Our Heavenly Father brought forth on this family, a new born son, conceived in Love, and dedicated to the proposition that, “They who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength,” (Isaiah, 40:31).

Now we are engaged in a great hormonal transition as you puberty season rises, testing whether this family, or any family so challenged and similarly tested, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that transition. We have come to dedicate our resources to insure our family creates a balance between your guidance and your correction. It is all together fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot consecrate—those resources alone we seek God to fill our stores. You The Boy, brave boy, who must struggle in the world at school and among your friends to find your space and grow your self, you, The Boy, who must negotiate your own relationships with God, integrity, quality work, your family, alcohol, drugs, sex and the turbulent myriad of feelings and hormones that compete for your attention you, The Boy, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but your parents can never forget your courage to rise. It is for us, your parents, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work, which your fight has thus so nobly advanced. It is rather for us nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be dedicated to the great task to remaining before us – to assure you of our abject LOVE, to hold the limits placed before you and to constantly, ardently and unceasingly ENCOURAGE you to wait upon the lord and heed His Call upon your life – that from these honored, adolescent struggles, we take increased devotion to that cause for which He gave the full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that their struggles shall not have been in vain—that this family, under God, shall have a New Birth of Freedom—and that our only son, of our hearts, by his own hand, for his Call shall long bless our family and this earth.

The battle, The Boy, is less important than the cause. You’ve begun to make yourself, as much a Maker as Alvin. The work will challenge you as it excites you to test limit and face logical consequences. We’re not afraid to fight beside you, our boy. We are also ready to fight you, if necessary, to hold the line.

I pray we consistently bring enough balance to our duty that you will NEVER doubt, even for an instant, how much we love you, Son. May you also NEVER even for an instant, doubt how perfectly and gloriously you were made… how fine a heart and brain you have been gifted… how witty and guided you are with words and ideas… how valued you are as a friend… how helpful on a soccer field… I could go on & on & on & on…

Most humbly yours, xo

Mamma

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!

Shoulders’ Song

Dear, kind, shoulders…

I continue to be humbled and grateful for your prayers, messages, calls and words of encouragement as our family navigates this transition.

I thought it appropriate to publish a couple of the messages to document the power of community in action.

These words archive more than specific meditations to our family, these words sing their own Praise about how much we impact each other in the Body.

I am beyond grateful and weep with joy under the luxurious canopy of His scandalous Grace.

Unlike a four-poster bed, however, His Grace falls down to blanket all and everywhere.

Yesterday,
Today,
Tomorrow.

Blessed are the hearts that proclaim God is Lord!

Is anyone thirsty?
Come!
Drink freely of the Water of Life.

xoxoxoxo

Thank you for reaching out to me. I know these things are never easy to
discuss and trust me since hearing about this move, my responses (and
The Wife’s) have been widely varied. I will start by saying I have learned
long ago that I cannot speak for my wife, so I will preface this by saying
these are my thoughts.

Getting to know your family has been one of the most amazing
experiences our family has undergone. There are times I wonder if we could
have ever made it without you guys. Be it advice on a baby that spits up all
of his milk the first six months as parents, or a frosty rescue mission when
Virginia turned into Alaska. The friendship that has developed between our
wives is truly remarkable.

My wife is often teased about her “Black hole”
guarding her not letting anyone in. Though this is just teasing and I do not
believe it, she can have a rough exterior at first. Somehow Jael tore that
completely down. The two of them share something, be it a bond between two
mothers or what I am not sure. Whatever it is, I know she is a better person
because of her. Our family is a better family because of yours.
The biggest pain of the entire situation is our boy. He will be losing
a world of his, and be suffering his first big heartbreak. I will admit as
you probably know already, that is heart-wrenching to watch as a parent.

I am also a better person from knowing your family. Through your
guidance I am a much better father than I ever thought I would be. I never
had a father influence. I didn’t have a role model as a dad to see know how
I would be a father when I grew up. Because of this I have always kind of
watched other families and dads and even men I have known.
Your family is the best role model on how to parent your children. For that I am grateful.
I am afraid that the relationship between you and I may have been paved with
good intentions. We still need to make it out to get a bucket of slop. I
have meant to get tickets to a basketball game to have a guys night out,
but before I knew it the season was over. Both of us have been extremely
busy. I think we could have gotten closer and you never know we may still.

The thought that has been returning into my brain during these last
few weeks is the famous saying, and I am paraphrasing:

Give me the strength
to change the things I can,
the patience to handle the things I can’t
and the wisdom to know the difference.

This was your decision, and it was between you and your family. As close as our families have become, we cannot affect this outcome.

I understand that this is quite an opportunity for you. If I have heard right, it more than just a J-O-B.

Though I am still unsure if we can completely give our blessing. For now I can say:

I cannot be happy with this.
I can begrudgingly accept this.
But I can understand this.

I will also say that you cannot get rid of us just by moving four states away from us.

I can guarantee pictures, e-mails and letters. Maybe even

visits.

Our families have come too close to simply allow them to fade away

from each other.

Thanks and good luck

Jael, we love you and your family so. I told The Boy that the only difference between living in Here and There is physical distance. We’re still his “Peeps” wherever he may be.

In this age, with email, testing Facebook Gmail chat …..

We can be there for each other.

Love you!

(Please pray for peace in our hearts here. It’s so stressful and perspective is everything. )

You say I took the name in vain
I don’t even know the name
But if I did, well really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light in every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah,
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah!

Guest Post: The Husband ~ July 1

Yo, man. I need to tell you guys, I’m sorry. I’m taking Jael away from Town. I have a professional opportunity that I’ll never have again, and I’m going for it. The consequences are many.

I take my kids from their friends. This is big. They have friends, The Middle Girl especially, like I’ve never had friends. I know they’ll adjust and make new friends. Kids are quick to adapt.

I take Jael from her friends. This is bigger. She has friendships here that are deeper than any she has known previously, you all included. That’s ok too, because Jael is most committed to her husband and her family. At *great* personal cost, she has accepted that this is what we need to do as a family. She may never have friends as sweet, or students she is as invested in as B and young Q. She is *trying* to accept this, and is fairly struggling.

What I have a hard time reconciling is: I take from this fair city, my wife. Those friends of Jael are loosing something too.

My wife is amazing. As a person, she loves so deeply, so genuinely, so uniquely. I know, without hubris, that I take from the city I love, Jael, the likes of which may never cross its path again. Specifically, she is an educator and caregiver to your children. She is a friend to those adults who didn’t think people could love them the way they loved others. This is big. I know what I take. I take from you dear friends a Sister and caregiver that will *not* be easily replaced.

I’m sorry for that. Truly. I’ve struggled with this choice for a while. I know what I take from those who know Jael. I have to, though; I have to choose what’s best for my family. If it weren’t a once in a lifetime opportunity, I wouldn’t consider it. Please understand that.

I don’t ask for forgiveness, I only seek to give context. These choices were not made lightly. Every choice has costs. I do ask that you know that the overriding force of this decision is me. I seek what’s best for me & mine. Please, don’t credit my wife with that burden. I hope you families love her and our kids as much as ever.

I love you guys, and wish you the *very* best in this life and all that comes.

Peace,

The Husband

Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do ya?
Well it goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah!

Transition

Pending relocation germinates my thoughts like dandelions. Ever since the possibility sprouted in our family garden, they’ve gone rogue.

Lists propagate like spores in a wet basement and I realize if we are called to this, we need an action plan _and soon.

I am more of a nester than a packer, so my best intentions meet the resistance of my own nature.

It will come as no surprise to you that I realized I could fracture some of Ben Franklin’s beloved aphorisms to speak to our situation and support literary procrastination.

Benjamin Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Aphorisms Adapted for Mammas Stalled in Transition:

Well baby I’ve been here before

I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew ya
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah!

Guest Post by Nana: Gladioulus

I’ve been looking over pictures of the Crayola house on Gladiolus Preserve Circle.  It appears to be HUGE, fun, bright and cheerful! It screams fun-loving family and KIDS.  Sherwin Williams refers to the colors as: “Exuberant, fresh, Optimism.  Tropical blooms. Sunny days. Playful exploration. It’s time to take a vacation and let our cares melt away.  Happy spaces are here again, bringing fresh florals, bright juicy colors and exuberant combinations.  It’s the kaleidoscopic spirit of the ‘60’s married to the jewel tones of the ‘80’s with a global twist.  Cultural influences and motifs mingle freely, creating a bohemian mosaic that sings in perfect harmony!”

…And, one last thing.  Ironically, in my Jesus Calling book, June 18^th discussed one of my favorites and so appropriate for this time in your life:

Jeremiah, 29:11  My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you,…you can relax and enjoy the present moment…

Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

Confirmation

God cradled us in his arms today.

He broke down our every barrier with complete and personal confirmation of His will in our lives.

We stand amazed by His Sovereignty and trust in His Faithfulness.

We were reminded to never mistake the silence of God for the absence of God.

We were challenged to believe that God is most powerfully present when He seems apparently absent.

We are promised Holy and sure blessings.

We are called to walk to through the valley before we stand before the mountain of God.

Today God met us exactly where we stood.

He called us to the alter and bid us come.

He held us there and bound us to each other anew.

For of him,
and through him,
and to him,
are all things:
to whom be glory for ever.
Amen.

We feel assured that He will build our characters in the desert and Portion us our daily bread.

We are grateful beyond breath and commit our hearts and feet to walk this out and Praise Him.

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah!

Still Here

Still Here

I been scared and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,

Looks like between ’em they done
Tried to make me

Stop laughin’, stop lovin’, stop livin’–
But I don’t care!
I’m still here!

Langston Hughes

I am profoundly grateful to those of you who have emailed, texted and called to inquire where I am and what’s up with the silence on bh.

Thank you for your love and concern.

Your kind words brought Still Here, one of my favorite Langston Hughes poems, to mind.

Long story short, I had an acute medical emergency last week that demands recovery time and generated some short term issues.

I am certain that I will write about it in the future, but for now, I assure you that I am still here and am humbled to know you noticed my quiet and care enough to reach out.

Thank you!

xo

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

There was a time you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in with you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

July 1

It
has
been
too
long
since
my
last
post.

And I want my next words to be kind.
And good.
And, if not of merit, then at least of substance.

But
and
however
and
so
and
needless
to say
nor
know

We still don’t have family plan.

In
16
days
we
will
must
make
a
decision.

$
down
here
or
there
come
what
may.

The
suspension
of
any
pretext
of
certainty
has
evolved
from
a
corrosive
rain
to
a
maintenance
weight.

I
have
taken
to
chanting
like
a
monk
inside
my
head
to
stay
the
beast
fear.

We
can
trust
Him.

Love
wins.

The
word
of
the
Lord
is
True.

Amid
the
torrents
of
my
own
resistance
He
loves
me
still
and
does
His
work.

Even
when
I
show
only
a sliver
of humility
a shimmer
of obedience

He
meets
me
where
I
am
and
fills my
cup.

He
bids me
drink
peace.

Sing
Hallelujah.

Bathe
In
My
Light

My will be done.

May it be so
with
me.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah!