When life keeps moving on...

I'm dipping into the archive of summer pictures again. I'm thankful for the way pictures take me back and all the good feelings of days gone by return once more. These moments of waiting to get into the state beach still feel fresh: faces looking at me through the sun roof, toes in the window, and my girl by my side. This spot is an August end-of-summer must, and we stay till the sun goes down.

This was Olivia's last day out on the waves before packing up for a new chapter of life. 

She gets the best beach hair...

Andrew on the long board

Jacob

Andrew's final summer before high school, a new chapter for him/us as well.

Our skin tones always tell the story of a good time...

And we laugh at the unfortunate tan lines.

The sun setting on the summer...

...and on life chapters.

"Summer 2019" written on the dewy windshield. 

Count the number of summers you have left with your kids, and then number your days. 

Be alert and aware: I promise you won't regret it.

>>:<<

Olivia came home last week for the first time since we dropped her off at school in August. Last night we met up with a couple of her friends on the journey back to school, and then she was off once more. Flying, really. "Thriving" might be even more appropriate.

I've wanted to write a few things about her transition to college, but the task seemed too great each time I sat down with a moment or two to collect my thoughts. The array of my emotion was more than I've had the energy to convey in type on a public post.

I've often said I've enjoyed every stage of parenting my kids. There never was an age or stage that I disliked or longed to pass by quickly. (True, potty training was a task I didn't love, but I stilled loved the toddler years so very, very much!) But now there is a parenting stage I very much dislike. I've discovered the hardest, absolute least favorite part of parenting is moving my child out. I know how necessary this is, of course, but - oh wow - the process hurts!

I've personally prepared for the transition for over a year as best I could. In fact, I've been very intentional about gradually preparing both myself and Olivia for the move to independence during all of her high school years. Those years were for practicing and training, for heart work and practical preparations to take place. All summer long, I consciously disciplined myself to love her well by entering into her joy rather than nurturing and feeding my sadness. I counted blessing and treasured final days.

No preparation can fully prepare, however. No mental and emotional foresight can fully anticipate an experience never lived out before. The final weekend before her departure was the worst! All the regrets, all the incomplete conversations, all the questions regarding the thoroughness of my mothering and mentorship... they all came as a wrecking flood. In recent weeks, however, I have been comforted with the knowledge that a completion of work was never required of me. In fact, it is God alone who carries the full weight of that role: "He who began a good work in [her] will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil. 1:6)

As mothers, we know that love will cost us dearly. Olivia's arrival into the world enlightened me to the fact that motherhood renders our heart exceptionally and irreversibly vulnerable. C.S. Lewis said, "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken." 

As other mothers who sweetly came alongside me attested, there is an undeniable sorrow that surrounds the closing of this chapter of motherhood. We do rejoice (and let me be clear that there was and is plenty of cheer!), but the reality of a child's departure produces a certain ache. While I have not denied the passage of emotion, I consciously recognized that what we grieve is the result of immense blessing. Though it is painfully true that a chapter of our lives has forever closed - something has truly ended - we can rejoice that we lived it! We smile at the good! Jon and I have dwelt on all the gifts God has granted us: a daughter that walks with her Savior; a mature, responsible, and driven young woman; relationship that not only remained in tact through the teen years, but is poised for great friendship entering adulthood; and a new place of study where she will develop professional skills, form life-long, God-honoring friendships, and mature in her faith. These (and more) are the very things we hoped and prayed for her whole life long. How could there not be gladness, though her daily presence is thoroughly missed?

Each of the boys independently gifted her a little something to help her settle into dorm life: a coffee maker, a California poster, and a jar of Nutella. We held an early morning circle of prayer in our driveway as a family, and once more that evening when the parent-student day concluded. These are the heavy, wonderful moments of open-handed gratefulness and trust in God.

Not being a homesick kind of girl, Olivia is absolutely thriving! On so many levels, she was ready for this! She quickly made friends, connected at church, expanded her circle by joining a Bible study at another university, and participates in various groups/opportunities. And, she is excelling academically. 

People regularly ask me how it is living in an all-boy house now. Well, I no longer have a feminine counterpart to look at with a bewildered or humored look, depending on what the male activity evokes. I no longer have a daughter around to help pick outfits or to talk about things that would only interests a girl (though we don't always allow for distance to impede us). I've lost a female perspective in a whole host of discussions, and someone to simply converse with in the kitchen. And if, for instance, I get a hair cut or change up home decor, absolutely no one notices any more.

But overall it's still just the same family, and the atmosphere is generally unchanged. I have new opportunities, however, and I want to figure out how to be the best boy-mom possible. There are topics of conversation to tackle that may have been a little more inhibited in mixed company. Periods and tampons, for example, was a hilariously honest topic that came up on the way to the beach. Girls and relationships come up as well.

In truth, I have a crew of guys that need to be trained up for manhood. It's a task I feel ill-equipped to do, but I'm not going at it alone. I think about this duty frequently, even lose sleep as I wrestle through in prayer. I'm certain I don't know all the steps to take, all the conversations to have, or all the opportunities to present, but I'm taking it on in earnest. And for each son, I pray for God's guidance, protection, and calling; I pray they would grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.

So with each of my children, at home or not, the goal is always to love well. That requires conscious thought on how attitudes and expressions of love must always be changing if they are to be constructive and God-honoring as seasons of life change. Quality of love doesn't lessen, it only matures.


~Katherine

An Encouragement to Persevere

As for man, his days are like grass;

    he flourishes like a flower of the field;

 for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,

    and its place knows it no more.

 But the steadfast love of the Lord is from 

everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,

    and his righteousness to children's children,

 to those who keep his covenant

    and remember to do his commandments.

 The Lord has established his throne in the heavens,

    and his kingdom rules over all.

Ps. 103: 15-19

Images: Grand Teton NP, July 2019

I am an endless note taker, a scribbler down of ideas, quotes, verses, thoughts, mottoes, memories... I collect ideas and truths about life and eternity, and things that contribute to living meaningfully and with eternity in mind. I don't mean to be so pensive, and philosophy disinterests me, but I seem to have been created to see the profound in the ordinary and mundane. Maybe we all are this way, but just express it differently. I write in journals, on scraps of paper, receipts, bulletins, envelops, books, screens. I occasionally take pictures of my notes with my phone for safer keeping because I know what inevitably happens to bits of paper. My notes, if they survive, are squirreled away for later development or simply left for pondering at some undetermined future time. My little bits of written words are precious to me as they represent learning, growing, and gratefulness; what life would be without progress in these areas is unimaginable.

Many times my notes are just personal impression of an other's work. There is nothing new under the sun, just personal learning and application. Below are words I wrote on the pages of a book to summarize my take-away from a short biography. I'm transcribing here before I set the book back on the shelf and these words are buried away with the other notes within.

Persevere: The closing summation and value of your work is not found in this lifetime. Press into the opportunities God sets before you with faithful obedience and dependence, knowing God determines your present circumstances with great care and sovereign control. Trust that the final value of your work and the fruitfulness of your endeavors will ultimately be determined and eternally rewarded by God alone, not according to what we see now or how others pronounce verdict. And no matter how many things seem to go wrong according to our perspective, faithful work in the name of the Lord is never a net loss. "Be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain." (1 Cor. 15:58)

~Katherine

Presence and Availability

For the next two hours I’m sitting alone in a coffee shop before picking up my boys. It’s my occasional guilty pleasure. No. Let me restate that: It’s something I do on occasion wherein I fight guilt knowing that time invested in myself is needful. This martyr’s complex many moms embrace is a real thing, albeit a poor way to feel or think. The mind and the emotions need to inform each other; neither should stand on their own.

I find myself approaching another crossroad. It’s not here yet, but it’s out there somewhere on the horizon. I wonder what’s in the next bend for me.

My kids are growing up, and my days are beginning to look different. I do believe my presence and availability are still very much needed in our home; from morning till long past night I am always on standby. And when my physical presence and availability are not needful, my availability to pray in the presence of God is absolutely necessary. I’m not ready to make any life changes quite yet, but I do want be prepared for the next juncture.

I once made a conscious, calculated, and informed decision to live my life for the benefit of others, primarily for my husband and kids. My life for theirs. It’s been the filter through which so many decisions are made; I habitually evaluate how new opportunities or uses of my time and personal resources will promote or impede the development and endeavors of my people. With my kids I learned that this work of presence and availability is the setting for nurturing relationship, and provides opportunity to teach of God along the way of life. I also learned that this general job description wasn’t a waste of my life, but rather an investment. The well-being of Jon and our kids has been my pursuit; their dreams and goals are mine, and their fulfillment takes priority over mine. If I can’t be of help, I do my best to stand out of the way.

My season of active parenting will end. A parent-friend relationship is the immediate goal, until one day I become a friend-parent. At that point there will be no more parenting, only a desire for redefined presence and availability, and friendship with adult children.

So at this point I am beginning to feel like my teenagers needing to respond to the question, “What do you want to do when you graduate?”

My plan is never to stay stagnant, and to receive change well. I want to “graduate” with much hope and joy, and with a plan for the next phase. What will consume my time? How can I come alongside my husband in a greater capacity? How will I develop my own interests and skills? And in these new pursuits, how can I maintain a position of presence and availability to my adult kids and to others? In short, what am I going to do with my time?

Jon and I married and started our family young, so, Lord willing, I have a lot of productive years ahead. Perhaps there's opportunity for a second occupation. Should I refresh my degree or go to grad school? Should I pour myself into a career, one that would come with a paycheck? Because honestly, a paycheck holds a certain appeal! I would be thrilled to contribute to college tuition or family vacations or home renovations or savings.

I’ve also accumulated a fair bit of experience teaching kids with dyslexia; I could pretty easily and quickly get the needed certifications to start a side business.

I have other interests along the creative side, too. Would it be fun to pursue those more intently, and what would be the end goal for those?

What about investing in the community, in bearing the burdens of the unseen, those on the periphery of society? It’s no secret I have a long-time desire to assist the destitute, those who need hope in ways most of us can’t comprehend. I’ve recently looked into a down town school for homeless children, a local shelter for homeless teens, and a pregnancy resource center. There’s a golden-haired woman named Keri who passes through our neighborhood in search of tin cans to return, and I wonder how I could be used in such a life.

Both money and time can be used for eternal investments. Should I aim to give money or to give time?

And then of course there’s the church. Ministry needs abound. They really do abound! Without looking for ways to serve, opportunities are always calling. I used to think, “No, I have nothing to give. I lack facility of words for the giving of comfort and wisdom; I don’t know scripture well enough. Frankly, I am way more broken myself than helpful.” But I am beginning to see that in this posture I can touch another with the hope that only God has given me. Maybe presence and availability is where I start here, too. It’s the giving of time and self.

Oh, but now wait. Perhaps I should pour myself into the ministry of hospitality. This has been a growing desire, and I don’t think by accident. Biblical hospitality is also a generous gift of resources, presence, and availability. Rightly done, it is an investment into relationships and it can have eternal implications.

So I’m praying about it all. Presence and availability will remain a priority for me, in this season and the next. I want to be poised for service and for relationship, with investment into eternity as the end goal. I have never been a very good judge of my skill and ability, or very decided on what I like to do,  but I know God is perfectly aware. Exactly how I should use my time will become evident through prayer and wise consult, I am sure of it!


{Endnote regarding my opening statement on the martyr’s complex: I am not seeking out suffering as defined by this term or as some would define this way of life. Suffering is not the goal, not even close. No one earns brownie points for conjuring up self-sacrifice. In fact, suffering is simply promised. We don’t need to go looking for it. In contrast, true sacrifice - one life for another - is a posture of heart in the backward Kingdom of God, and I believe the rewards are happier in the end. Regarding investing into self, I’ve come to see it’s absolutely critical for maximizing what we can give to others in love. There are no points for misplaced guilt, either!}


~Katherine

Communication

"We find out that good communication requires more intentionality and pursuit and careful listening and humility and persistence and perseverance and real love than we originally expected or probably wanted to give. But if we really press into it, we tend to discover far more about that person than we knew before and experience new levels of intimacy and friendship with them. If we don’t, we won’t. 

The same is true of God."

-jon bloom

~Katherine

A Fleeting Moment

If my life is a mere breath, here today and gone tomorrow, then what are these few, short, fleeting years I have with my kids?

Tomorrow we celebrate Michael's 15th birthday. Those 15 years have past far too quickly. On a day like today, it is hard not to look back and think about those years that are gone.

Psalm 90 made a huge impression on me as a young married in my early 20's. I was just beginning to search and pray for understanding regarding motherhood, almost desperately trying to understand God's design in comparison to cultural norms, and untangling all my misunderstanding and courageously face selfish desires. Babies were already in the picture, and the struggle for understanding and acceptance of truth was daily. "Who am I, and what am I doing with my life?" was my persistent question.

There is a real struggle in death, especially when we are called daily to the death of self. In the dying, though, I found the desire to live for something greater than my own present happiness. I saw that in the daily dying there was taking root a greater purpose for life than me, and I began to see the work of my life as something greater than the culmination of my days on earth. Through passages like Psalm 90, I began to see I can choose to live with eternity in daily view, knowing that life is a momentary breath while eternity stands, well, forever. It's not something we can afford to gloss over.

As a new mother, I began to understand that my life has eternal implications, and the work of my days will influence the eternal soul of my children. The Spirit used Ps. 90:12 in a particularly affecting way:

"So teach us to number our days

    that we may get a heart of wisdom."

If I am to be wise, then, I must look to the Lord for instruction rather than to the ways of the world. I must ask God to show me life as it is, not as it appears. These days are like a breath, a vapor, a dream. They are numbered. But they will count forever.

>:<

Several months ago, Michael and I spent some time at the botanic gardens. It was a rare time for just the two of us. A special time, really. I'm not sure where his interest began, but Michael has a peculiar fascination with plants. It was a pleasure for me to peruse the gardens with him. His knowledge regarding plants is fascinating and surprising; he is endlessly experimenting with new varieties and arranging/growing displays in terrariums. 

He is not as interested in being photographed, though! I do respect that, but hope he will let me take just a few for his birthday nonetheless. Here was the sole picture I took of him all day, with permission.

I don't remember the name of the plant pictured below, but this is some kind of death flower. Its putrid smell is designed to attract flies, which are then trapped and digested in the center.

(If I'm not careful, I will be taking you down a trail of thoughts with this flower of death... because life is not always as it appears. Be careful about where your affections lead you!)

A forest of cork...

I wanted to climb this tree, and a boy looking over my shoulder just now voiced the same desire.

Being a boy mom makes me enjoy taking pictures of bugs. I enjoy the challenge of inching up close as well.

>:<

The years of motherhood are wonderful to be sure, but they are not always easy. In fact, the best things in life almost never are. 

Because of the impression Psalm 90 made on me early in my mothering days, it is difficult for me to think of it outside the context of motherhood. It is such a special passage to me. These words have long been my prayer and plea to my God, the compassionate giver of good~

"Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,

    that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.

 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,

    and for as many years as we have seen evil.

 Let your work be shown to your servants,

    and your glorious power to their children.

 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,

    and establish the work of our hands upon us;

    yes, establish the work of our hands!"

~Katherine