Toughness, Elegance and Humor.

There are two strains of bloodline that came together to make me who I am. One strain carries tough Swiss blood. Farming stock. Those who braved Nebraska winters and the life of being dependent on nature. I love the pictures I see of them…I love the fact that they look not only tough as anything, but there is humor in them.

That’s my Grandfather in the overalls.

They came from Switzerland, my great-grandfather and great-grandmother. They danced in barn dances. They made a life that paved the way for my life. They were farmers, hunters and builders. Eventually the builder in them came to New Mexico. My Dad inherited the humor, the love of nature and the building. And the toughness.

My Great-Grandfather Fritz Moosman

My other strain is New Mexico tough. With a little Eastern elegance. My great-grandfather on this side became a law man and a judge. And a baker. Not a candlestick maker as far as I know…but I wouldn’t be surprised.

My Great-Grandfather the baker, lawman and possibly candlestick maker.

This bloodline carried lawyers and inn keepers and one who had a pool hall. A Sheriff referred to as Cincopor Jones because a Mexican came riding his horse into town during the election shouting “Cinco Por Jones”. These were city folk compared to the Nebraska line. And somewhere in there my mother inherited the elegance and the toughness. Her family line doesn’t have that kinda snarky smile as much, but there was humor there as well. And, yes, toughness. That Great-grandfather the baker was referred to as the Eliot Ness of Otero County and once captured Machine Gun Kelly.

The women who impacted my mom, who impacted me.

Lawyers, Judges, fighter pilots and strong women. That’s my mom in the front row glaring at her brother who is, well, showing that strong personality.

Two strains.

Toughness throughout, but a mix of refinement humor. All of this flows in me, and mixes with the spirit of hospitality and faith of my husband’s family.

My kids carry more strains, but there is still toughness and there is still humor, and there are glimpses of the ancestors in them. Mom’s jaw in Maddie, Dad’s twinkle of humor in his eyes in Nate.

So now, I watch one of mine becoming his own person. All of them are doing it in different degrees, but Nate is taking a giant, galloping leap into becoming his own person.

He is walking in that toughness, humor and adventure of his ancestors.

He has always been fiercely independent, and he has wanted to see the world since he was 13. He has dreamed of going to South Korea, to Seoul, to study. And in three hours his plane will take off and he will be carried almost 7000 miles away to his see his dreams come true.

They won’t look like he expects. They never do. They will be better and they will be worse. So, at 3am as I listen to the dryer finishing his last load and see him darting up and down the stairs to figure out what must go in these two suitcases…some words of advice.

It’s in your blood.

Your heritage is one of adventure and curiousity…some coming from Switzerland to America, others coming from out East in a covered wagon to the West with a china cabinet as a gift for a bride. Embrace that adventure and curiosity and see where it takes you.

It won’t be what you expect.

You are going to have days when the homesickness hurts so bad you just won’t know what to do. Embrace it and be glad that you are loved and you love enough to ache when you are gone. We’ll be feeling the same here as we miss you and feel the void of your absence. There is no shame in that, and it doesn’t diminish the awesomeness of your journey…it just reminds you that loving always carries some sacrifices.

God created you this way.

Embrace the curiosity and the wonder and the love of other cultures. That doesn’t just come from your ancestors…it comes from your Creator. The fact that you want to know about other cultures and people is a glorious testimony to the God who created you…and the other cultures…and wants us to delight in each other. Love them well.

God is in all of this.

What challenges you have faced in the last year to get to this moment! The fact that God has put this desire in you is so clear to those of us watching you. You have never faltered in the desire to go, even though you’ve had lots of moments where you could have said it just didn’t seem to be working out.

I read this the other day and it sure struck true to me:

“O Lord, You are my God; I will exalt you, I will give thanks to Your name; for You have worked wonders, plans formed long ago, with perfect faithfulness.” Isaiah 25:1

Nate the Great.

Whew. I can’t believe we are one hour from driving to the airport. I hope the laundry is done. I hope I don’t blubber and cry and embarrass you at the airport.

I hope you know how loved you are.

I hope you know how ready for this moment you are.

I have to include a Buechner quote (yes, it is often used, but that is because it rings so true):

The grace of God means something like: “Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are, because the party wouldn’t be complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It’s for you I created the universe. I love you.”

There’s only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you’ll reach out and take it.

Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too.”

Seoul…he’s almost on his way. He’s been waiting for this moment for years. Be kind to him. He’s rather special and loved. Just wait. You’ll see.

Spaghetti For Breakfast: Sustaining Moments

I’ve been up since 2am. Trying to navigate a challenge involving one of the kids off on an adventure. I promise to tell about that soon, but not quite yet.

I can tell you this boy and his independence will teach Steve and I more about relying on God than many things we have experienced. We have learned to pray and trust and realize that ultimately these kids are God’s and He has plans we can’t even imagine.

 

Sometimes that education is  bit exhausting, emotionally and physically.

 

Like navigating challenges at 2am. After being awakened at midnight as well.

 

My response?

 

Spaghetti for breakfast at 5:30am.

 

 

Now, I love spaghetti, but there is a deeper reason for turning to spaghetti for breakfast this morning.

 

When I was growing up my middle brother used to come home from dates and make spaghetti late at night. I would lay awake and wait for him to come home, then follow him to the kitchen and wait while he made spaghetti and eat with him. I honestly don’t know how many times this happened…as our minds play with our memories, it may have only been once or it may have been dozens of times. Regardless, it left an imprint on my brain.

 

Rarely do I make spaghetti without thinking of my brother. And sometimes, when a day has been especially challenging, a plate of spaghetti can bring a sense of comfort. A moment of sustaining.

 

I like what Madeleine L’Engle says about how we carry with us each age we have been:

 

“I am still every age that I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child. Because I was once a searching adolescent, given to moods and ecstasies, these are still part of me, and always will be… This does not mean that I ought to be trapped or enclosed in any of these ages…the delayed adolescent, the childish adult, but that they are in me to be drawn on; to forget is a form of suicide… Far too many people misunderstand what *putting away childish things* means, and think that forgetting what it is like to think and feel and touch and smell and taste and see and hear like a three-year-old or a thirteen-year-old or a twenty-three-year-old means being grownup. When I’m with these people I, like the kids, feel that if this is what it means to be a grown-up, then I don’t ever want to be one. Instead of which, if I can retain a child’s awareness and joy, and *be* fifty-one, then I will really learn what it means to be grownup.” 

 

We all know that there are tragedies many have lived through, and those continue to impact them as adults. There are moments of childhood which leave a mark that one would rather forget.

 

But there are moments which leave a mark, a memory…something that gives us strength. A fragrance or a moment of music can spark the emotion from childhood, from adolescence, and can bring strength. Spaghetti for breakfast. Comfort. Reminder that I have a foundation which is sufficient for the challenges of today.

 

 

So in our days as Moms and Dads, as brothers and sisters…remember today that we are creating these moments for those around us. We are giving them tools, we are giving them reminders…we are giving them comfort and strength for the future when they may need it the most. Rituals and rhythms which might spark the knowledge of a strong foundation.

 

I have a feeling Maddie and Sam will have some connection to the theme song from Great British Baking Show.

 

Today, though, as I finish off the spaghetti, I want to think of how to be intentional about creating these moments. I want to be more consistent with them. Life has been moving so quickly, I feel as though I have been holding the tiger by the tail. Time to slow that down.  Time to make the room to do something out of the ordinary. Time to craft a tool the kids can rely on in the future.

 

One other note. The kid that is off on an adventure is actually off with the middle brother mentioned above’s best friend. Confused? Well, this best friend has cared for my boy with diligence and kindness that is the fruit of a deep gratitude.

 

There have been bumps in the adventure they are on, challenges that were not expected. They have navigated them well, but again and again this friend has said that he is thrilled to be able to care for our boy because of the times my brother and parents cared for him. There is a foundation of kindness in that relationship of 38 years which is reaping a benefit for my teen.

 

So. Be kind. Establish some rituals and moments our kids can turn to for comfort and strength and reminders. And remember that the kindness we offer to those around us may come back in completely unexpected ways to be a blessing. Isn’t the crazy connections of life grand? Isn’t it just like there is a creative God who surprises us constantly in how our lives are connected with those around us?

 

Now. Go find your version of spaghetti for breakfast and be encouraged, comforted…blessed. You have the tools you need for today.

 

 

 

 

 

The boy. Transitions and Tears.

Last night we dropped the oldest at college. Well. First I took the youngest to 3rd grade orientation. The middle boy is off on a grand adventure which will have to wait to be told. The youngest boy spent the day in the humidity and heat of the south lugging things up to the 4th floor college door room with Dad.

So we “dropped” the boy at college after a full day of outfitting the room, making runs to Target, and figuring out details.

 
The departure was abrupt. I knew early on it was going to be difficult. I didn’t anticipate it being abrupt. Dinner was at 6 and we weren’t invited…just the students and the dean. So we had to let him hug us quickly and run to meet friends and make it on time. And we were left standing in his dorm room. I hadn’t quite pictured the transition like that.

 

I also had not anticipated that the weeks leading up to this moment would be some of the most stressful we have ever encountered, all things not part of this college adventure. We were distracted. And exhausted. Wednesday night it hit me like a wall. He was leaving. Really leaving…and this constant, calm presence that had been part of my rhythm for 18 years was going to be gone.

 

 

And I didn’t get to write the letter I wanted to tuck away somewhere in his things. Yes, I know that’s sappy, but I deal with emotions through writing and needed to leave him my words.

So, guess what, buddy…they are going here. Sometimes the keyboard is more cathartic than the pen. 

You are so very ready for this moment, even though you may not really know it.  There are some great letters out there to Freshman. They remind their kids to do their laundry, to clean the toilet and to not get drunk. They are reminding their kids that this is an amazing time in their lives. They are reminding them they love them. And all those things are true…but I have a few more.

 

First. Be alive in these moments. Take them in. There is going to be so much activity, so many conversations, and so much life. Be intentional. Be present. Pay attention. In those things God is there…

“There is no event so commonplace but that God is present within it, always hiddenly, always leaving you room to recognize him or not to recognize him, but all the more fascinatingly because of that, all the more compellingly and hauntingly. . . . If I were called upon to state in a few words the essence of everything I was trying to say both as a novelist and as a preacher, it would be something like this: Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

You knew I had to start with Buechner.  Pay attention. Take note of your life. I left you a new Moleskin journal. Fill it up. Even just with stupid stuff. Write about who you met on these first days. Write about how you are feeling. Write. It is not just to have to look back on, it is to process and slow down and think about your days.

These days are going to be so full. Terrifying, and good, and daunting, and amazing. You are going to have the whole spectrum of feelings. ( I resisted the whole Buechner quote of Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.  See what I did there?)

Find the things that bring you delight and absolutely delight in them!

Second. Take care of yourself.

Buechner again:

“Love yourself not in some egocentric, self-serving sense but love yourself the way you would love your friend in the sense of taking care of yourself, nourishing yourself, trying to understand, comfort, and strengthen yourself.” 

This. Take care of yourself. And remind yourself of those who have poured life into you for 18 years. You have such a strong foundation. You’ve been taught to work hard, to laugh even harder, and to think well. You have been taught to believe. Remember those lessons. You can tackle anything that comes your way. Remind yourself of the men who have taught you through the simplest things.

 

You have the tools for this life.

 

Encourage yourself when you feel overwhelmed. Challenge yourself when you feel lazy. And rest. You have a great dorm room to find some peace and silence and rest. Pay attention to what you need emotionally and physically.

Third. Work out your faith, and make it yours.

“Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith. They keep it awake and moving.”

Yes. More Buechner. And more truth. You are going to have questions. You are going to encounter people and God in ways you never have. Your faith is going to become more yours than ever before. This is all good. Don’t be afraid of the doubts. Don’t ignore them. Wrestle with them, and pray and think. Remind yourself of the truths you know, of the experiences you have had and of the testimonies of God you have witnessed in our family. Pray. Read. Think.

Pray. Everywhere you go. Talk to your God. Tell Him everything.

“I have no idea who to sit with at lunch, I’m lonely and afraid.”

“I am so completely stoked to be here.”

“I am completely overwhelmed and don’t know what to do next.”

 
Everything. Everything. Everything. Pray without ceasing. He is there and He wants to hear it.  Pray.

 

Fourth. Note who you are becoming. 

“Daybreak is a never-ending glory; getting out of bed is a never ending nuisance.” – Chesterton

Yep. Had to have Chesterton. Don’t get bored. That seems to be the underlying theme I am getting to here. The details of the day are going to be making you a man. They have been for 18 years. Now you get to chose the details. You get to chose the influences and the situations. These are the formings of who you will be, what you will build on this foundation you have.

 

“Thus, when you wake up in the morning, called by God to be a self again, if you want to know who you are, watch your feet. Because where your feet take you, that is who you are.”  -Buechner

Have so much fun. Learn so many amazing things. But think well about where you go, and who you allow to truly know you. Before you get out of bed, think of who you are and you want to be. Be intentional, my boy, don’t just be carried along.

And remember that we are so proud of who you are becoming. You have quite the cheering section.

Fifth. Be kind.

 

“I wish we could sometimes love the characters in real life as we love the characters in romances. There are a great many human souls whom we should accept more kindly, and even appreciate more clearly, if we simply thought of them as people in a story.” -Chesterton

All these folks doing this life with you right now are full of all the same emotions. Pay attention to them. Find the ones who really need a friend and be a friend. Find the ones who you can really connect with and grapple with life, and hold them close. Be kind always. Even when you have to be strong or confrontational. You can still be kind.

 

That’s it, my boy. And yes, I’ll still call you my boy. It’s yours now. The foundation is there, and we are still here. There’s a transition that happened in that last hug, though. You get to decide now on the directions and the details. We get to cheer and to support rather than to plan.

 

And I am so excited. Granted, I will probably cry a bit this weekend. But this has been our goal. To see you becoming a man who has character and integrity and faith. A man who can laugh and play and can also think deeply and weep and pray. You are becoming that man and we couldn’t be more proud. This is going to be fantastic.

 

Oh, and two last things. We still have to watch Something the Lord Made and Life is Beautiful, so come home eventually to watch them.

 

And. Last thing. I hid two $50 bills in your belongings. Have fun finding them.

 

 

Sorrow Sent by God…

 

Whew. Sometimes the weight of sorrow surprises me.

 

I came online today, logged in to the blog, and tried to translate some recent thoughts to coherent words.

 

I made a very quick trip home about a month ago. I wanted to see Mom, and the rest of the family. There is a lingering homesickness that strikes sometimes, even when you moved away from home 24 years ago. Even when you have lived away from home longer than you actually lived at home.

 

That homesickness is amplified when you grew up in a place as unique as New Mexico, where the skies have a special shade of blue and nothing else will take care of the craving for red and green chile.

 

And it is amplified even more when one key, elemental, powerful force of your life is slowly inching her way toward eternity.

 

We all are, I know, but Mom is in her own way. She is holding her place physically here in our presence, while most of her is somewhere else. Her thoughts, her words, her connection…it has become hidden. Her laughter.

 

Her smile remains, and the twinkle in her eye.

 

I sat down and tried to put words to this nagging feeling, this sorrow, that has been present for years. I have several friends who continue down this road and I wanted to share something that would encourage…or at least remind that we are not alone.

 

 

And then this came up in memories on FaceBook…a picture from ten years ago.

 

And the sorrow settled upon me.

 

An acute sorrow with this picture of a more clear minded person. A person who was able to interact and who still knew in some way.

 

There is a sense where mourning is set aside with a long disease like this. I don’t know what it would be like  if it was a long disease where her mind was present, but I know on this journey we simply cannot be sad all the time…it is exhausting.

 

I think of Mom as this place holder…this bookmark in life. Or maybe a pause button is more appropriate. She is present and not…and we continue with life, and yet we don’t. My brothers and my dad are more impacted by this, obviously than I am, as the rhythm of their days is dictated by her meals and her life.  But she causes this pause in life, she reminds us that she is still here, and yet she also reminds us of all we have lost.

 

She reminds us that we are broken. That sorrow is lingering around the edges of our joy. Sorrow because things are not as we know they should be. Sorrow because we long for something else.

 

G.K. Chesterton has a poem where he suggests that sorrow is used by God to bring us back to attention to the divine, to the eternal…

 

Sorrow

At last, at even, to my hearth I hark,
Still faithful to my sorrow. And inside
Even I and all my old magnanimous pride
Are broken down before her in the dark.

Sorrow’s bare arm about my neck doth strain,
Sorrow doth lift me to her living mouth
And whispers, fierce and loving like the South,
Saying, “Dear Pilgrim, have you come again?

“Whether you walked by wastes of upland green,
Whether you walked by wastes of ocean blue,
Have you not felt me step by step with you,
A thing that was both certain and unseen?

“Or haply is it ended? haply you,
Conquering and wholly cured of loving me,
Are but a wavering lover who would be
Off with the old love ere he take the new?”

But, seeing my head did but in silence sink
Before her ruthless irony and strong.
She gave me then that dreadful kiss to drink
That is the bitter spring of art and song.

Then with strange gentleness she said, “I choose
To be thine only, thine in all ways; yes,
Thy daughter and thy sister and thy muse,
Thy wife and thine immortal ancestress.

“Feed not thy hate against my rule and rod,
For I am very clean, my son, and sane,
Because I bring all brave hearts back to God,
In my embraces being born again.”

Thus spoke she low and rocked me like a child,
And as I stared at her, as stunned awhile,
On her stern face there fell more slow and mild
The splendour of a supernatural smile.

 

 

 

Sorrow is appropriate. The words are gone and the understanding is gone, but her presence remains. In the same moment it reminds us that this world is broken and it is painful, and because we know in our being that it should be otherwise, sorrow sparks hope that things will ultimately be put right.

 

The rest of my day was shadowed, though, as that picture intensified the sorrow. And maybe that is what I was to write about after all: it is okay to be strikingly sad that those we love dearly no longer know us, and no longer can speak to us. It is okay to take time in the long journey of a set-aside mourning to mourn with tears and acute sorrow when God allows sorrow’s stern face to bring us back to know our need for Him.

 

I think we all carry a sorrow with us that is part of this broken world, and sometimes God uses this acute sorrow to allow a true mourning that cleanses us. A good cry can be tremendously healing, so we can sit back up and be present in the midst of this broken world and bring hope.

 

So for today, if you took a picture of us together, I may not mirror her quite as I did in the picture above. Her expression has relaxed as her knowledge of me has slipped. If you ask how she is I won’t know quite how to answer…I wonder what whispers God is telling her that we cannot know.

 

 

And for those who are on this same journey…take heart. You are truly not alone, and God is moving even through this. Lean in to the sorrow and hear God’s heart. Do not try to ignore it or overcome. Allow the moments of deep mourning, and be reminded of the hope that all will be made well.