Under Cover

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©2019 PurePurpose.org

There’s a blanket I use when I’m sitting on my couch in the evening, writing or watching a show. There is never a time I place it over my legs that I don’t think of my dad.

Today would have been his birthday.

I bought the blanket for him several years before he died. It was the first Christmas gift I bought that year. I found a special display of blankets in a store, and this one had three labs on it. I picked up one for my dad and one for a brother-in-law. They were inexpensive but proved to be very warm and durable through the years.

I would often walk into the living room and harass my dad for putting the blanket on wrong, putting the dogs on their heads instead of right-side-up. He later started doing it just to harass me. It still makes me smile to imagine his impish grin when he was up to something, which was more often than not.

It’s the same blanket we took to the hospital for his last few days on earth. We didn’t use it often, because he tended to stay warm under a couple light covers, but when we did, I made sure the pups were right-side-up.

At night, another blanket reminds me of my dad – and my mom. For my 50th birthday, she put together a quilt using many of the clothes I remember them having through the years (and some still make me laugh when I reflect on the styles). She had it quilted with a farm pattern, so even when it’s flipped on its back, the design reminds me of life on the farm. It’s warm and just the right weight to snuggle under at night.

It’s an odd thing to move through grief while finding purpose and contentment in life. The memories soothe me but not in a way that keeps me from moving forward and living well. My dad enjoyed life. Even when he met some significant challenges throughout life, he approached them with a sense of humor, common sense, and determination. He always encouraged me to do the same. He always encouraged me to live well, to explore the possibilities, and to see challenges as basic problems to be solved.

I don’t hide under the covers that remind me of him. I don’t live my life because of who he was. I don’t live my tomorrows because of my yesterdays. But he helped me see a balance of freedom and responsibility in life. He planted seeds of faith in me and fostered them in the way he lived. Even the way he died cultivated and grew my faith and affirmed the purpose of my life.

My dad wasn’t perfect. I don’t idolize him. But I appreciate him. I am thankful for the lessons of freedom and responsibility he taught me by example. And not a day goes by without several moments of gratitude for his encouragement to always grow, to fully live, to treat people well, and to choose joy.

A Transparent Mind

photo-1520532622976-1bdf3b7a5af9After a brisk 15k walk on a chilly but sunny December morning, I went to brunch with my oldest daughter and her husband. It was delicious – definitely worth the wait – but my favorite part was the conversation. We joked around with each other and pulled the server into it a couple times. He came by toward the end to ask if we wanted take-home boxes and drinks. I paused when he asked if I wanted a tea to go, then I declined. He walked away from our table, and I explained my reasoning, “I’ll probably stop by QT for a big drink to take home.”

“Yes, mom, I could see what you were thinking,” my daughter responded.

Apparently, I am a bit predictable. But more than that, it was the thinking process that gave me away. I paused, and my daughter knew I was thinking through my options before responding. It was as if my head was transparent, and she could see what was going on inside.

That’s okay with me. Not that someone knowing I planned to pick up a fountain drink is important in any way, but being transparent and being known is extremely important to me. We can sometimes be scared of being known, or we can be irritated that we are not known. But let’s remember that being known is a process. It requires our transparency, humility, and honesty. It requires us to engage with others, even when we have to muddle through some conversations and situations that are a bit uncomfortable for us. It means setting aside our own selves to know others. It involves setting aside defense mechanisms in order to reflect on the truth of who we are and how we should respond.
It’s a process, and you will face many opportunities to be transparent today. Make an effort to become more transparent with your mind, your heart, and your entire life.

Early Birds

photo-1508768787810-6adc1f613514We were supposed to be at my mom’s house at one o’clock. The girls and their husbands and I were meeting there to celebrate Christmas a little early. Mom didn’t need much help, so I planned to arrive around 12:30. I thought my daughters would arrive closer to one. As I was running errands before leaving town, my youngest texted to let me know she and her husband had left home and were on their way. So, they would beat me. A few minutes later, my oldest texted to say, “20 minutes out.” And so, I was beat by everyone.

I smiled.

Not that being early is the big deal, but it’s funny how habits within a family get shifted onward. (Well, it’s not always funny. I’ve also seen not-so-great habits passed along.) Perhaps what most prompted me to smile was the anticipation of being together. Family gatherings can be stressful, and because of the seismic shifts in my family over the last couple years, holidays can especially hold some sadness, anxiety, and uncertainty.

If you’ve been reading my blog for long, you know I’m not a sweep-it-all-under-the-rug person. That includes holidays for me. I gave up my expectation of the perfect holiday years ago. I’d rather have authentic relationships and interactions. I’d rather be able to be myself, invite healing, share my life.

The holidays might be over, but the same concept carries into so much of our lives. How often do you put pressure on yourself or others to go through the motions to make a gathering or other situation what you want it to be instead of what it is? What honest conversations and confrontations are you avoiding because you want to pretend things are what they’re not? If you have goals for a situation or relationship to be different, do the hard work to change it. Apologize, listen, forgive, share, process.

One of the hardest things about the way my marriage ended was my ex’s refusal to process with me, our family, our friends, or anyone who might be a reality check for what was going on. That lack of honesty and transparency continues to have ripple effects. I decided early on to invite honest conversations. Perhaps it was partly because I simply didn’t have the energy to put on a facade. Plus, one person’s approach doesn’t need to invade everyone else’s approach. I encouraged people to seek truth.

Being the early bird who sets that tone is difficult for a variety of reasons. Being an early bird doesn’t always mean you get the best of a situation. It has some costs to it. It takes sacrifice. But when it’s based in a pure concern for and commitment to other people, it is worth it.

I hope that’s something my family and others see in me. Seek truth, transparency, and humble processing with others. Not everyone will cooperate, but when they do, it will enrich relationships.

The Joke Reversed

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©2018 PurePurpose.org

Perhaps you recall last year’s post about the Reese’s candy my girls stuffed into my Christmas stocking.

They struck again this year.

As soon as I arrived with my empty stocking, then grabbed it, closed the bedroom door, and went to work.
This year, they added a bit of sass.

Besides my love of Reese’s, one of the motivation for putting Reese’s in my stocking is the memory of the stolen Reese’s from a Christmas about ten years ago. A package of six peeked out of the top of the stocking, but there was one missing. No one confessed and took responsibility.

This year, in addition to the dozens of Reese’s eggs packed into my stocking, there was a package of six tucked into the top. But this package wasn’t disguised to look full. It had obviously been tampered with, and when I pulled it out, I immediately saw that not one, but two, Reese’s trees were missing. That was when each girl pulled a tree from her pocket and ripped it open to begin to eat it…and realized the chocolate trees stored in pockets for a while might not have been the best idea.

So, I got a good laugh at their joke and a stocking full of Reese’s.

Win, win.

Sometimes a bit of sass brings a smile to my day, especially when it creates fun memories with family.

Oh, and the joke turned back on me later. I stored all the Reese’s in a gift bag my oldest had given me. It was covered in glitter. I didn’t think much about it until I carried the candy into work and turned the bag over to dump all the candy into a basket. That’s when glitter went everywhere. I (and my work space) sparkled all day!

Stockings of Memories

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©2018 PurePurpose.org

The stockings were stuffed. It’s always been one of my favorite challenges of Christmas as a mom – finding fun and useful things to stuff into stockings at Christmas. I had a personalized stocking from my childhood, but I set it aside when I got married. One of my favorite high school teachers gave me and my ex personalized, handmade stockings when we got married. She continued to make them for our daughters. As we started adding family members several years ago, I wanted the guys to feel included. So, two years ago, I had new stockings made for all four of the now-adult “kids.” It was the first year in the new house my ex and I had bought. I didn’t realize he had already left the marriage and was involved with someone else. I enjoyed that first Christmas in the new house with new stockings and a full family.

The next year, the four “kids” and I celebrated in my rental. It was simple but cozy, and we enjoyed the continued tradition of the new stockings.

This year, I prepared the stockings a few days in advance to make sure I had enough for everyone. As usual, I could barely fit all that I had in each stocking. In fact, the candy I bought to split among the four stockings didn’t fit at all. I also used my youngest daughter’s childhood stocking to put in a few items for the first granddaughter we’ll welcome to the family in a couple months. Plus, we had my stocking.

That meant six empty stockings were stacked on my table when I got home and unpacked after our celebration.

So, maybe our stockings aren’t used in quite the same context and places as originally planned, but I was stuffed with joy just like those stockings were stuffed. We are in the process of stuffing ourselves with new memories.

We still have some good older memories, too, but it’s important for us to move on and let God turn ashes into beauty, uproot any bitterness of what is no longer, and encourage hope of what can be.

Each of us gets to choose what we stuff our lives with, how we deal with memories, and how we look toward the future.

It’s not always easy, but I choose hope, joy, peace, and faith. I am thankful for another year of stuffed stockings with my family.

The Grief of Christmas

photo-1482517967863-00e15c9b44beThree years ago, I knew it was my dad’s last Christmas. It was bittersweet. I didn’t know exactly when he would die, but I knew it would come before the next Christmas. It was shorter than I expected – only a couple weeks later. And it was difficult. Yet there was a sweetness to that Christmas despite the uncertainty. There were several moments that are etched in my mind, because I was intentional about looking around, noticing the details, and taking a deep breath to soak it in.

The following year was difficult, but I took the grief process one step at a time and learned a new rhythm of life. There were more moments of grief as a good friend’s husband unexpectedly died in an accident and a friend and mentor died after a short and ugly cancer battle. Death awakens us and adjusts our perspective on life. I also adjusted to a new job, enjoyed adjusting to a daughter and son-in-law moving closer to me, helped my mom as much as I could, and bought a house and moved with my then-husband.

Christmas approached, and while it had a taste of bittersweet to it, I also felt a deeply abiding joy. I had settled deeper into God’s presence through the grief process. I was healing. I sat in the corner and looked around the living room in the new house, filled with our family – our two daughters and the men they loved. We laughed, made new memories, and I sighed. Like the year before, I was intentional about looking around, noticing the details, and taking a deep breath to soak it in. I appreciated life and relationships in a clarifying way.

But I didn’t notice all the details.

What I didn’t know waa there was another person in that room, not physically, but relationally. My ex was in the process of leaving his family, and throughout that day, he contacted his girlfriend many times. It might have appeared as if he was there and invested in the rest of us, but he had stepped away emotionally. He was on his way out. He wouldn’t announce it until about six weeks later, but every Christmas gathering that year – with our immediate family, his extended family, and my extended family – included his girlfriend and his disconnection.

I was about to face grief yet again, although this time, I didn’t expect it.

Would it have mattered? I’m not sure. What I know is this: grief is a process. It looks different based on our perspective. It is difficult. It is revealing. It can be confusing and clarifying. It burdens us, yet we also experience uplifting moments as we do life authentically with others and heal along the way.

I know a lot of people will deal with grief this Christmas. Some are reeling from it. Some know it’s coming. Others, including me, have no idea what the day after Christmas or the new year will bring.

Regardless of what you’re aware of and what you’re experiencing, be intentional about looking around, noticing the details, and taking a deep breath to soak it in. Appreciate life and relationships in whatever snapshots you can.

Life can be bitter at times, but it is sweet, too.

Family Time

39453219_10155829003641295_3425556475227930624_nI got to spend the day with my son-in-law. It was just him and me, painting the kitchen. We both like to paint. We are both fairly picky. I wondered how we’d work together.
The day started off well when I saw how well-organized he was. He’d done the time-consuming prep work of taping, taking off and labeling cabinet doors, setting up outside work space, and so on. He’d thought through the various jobs we had and the dry time for each, so he had a plan to maximize the day. It didn’t take long for us to settle in and make progress.

Throughout the day, we listened to worship music, laughed as he Face-timed a sister, heard and discussed several messages from favorite speakers, discussed the confusion over sections of Scripture, and talked about everyday life. We also enjoyed moments of quiet as we worked hard. My daughter/his wife made sure we were fed well throughout the day even though she couldn’t be around the paint fumes. Of course, I would have enjoyed her company, too, but I have to admit: spending time with my son-in-law was good. The two of us had taken a short road trip the week before and had a great time.

It’s good to extend family. It’s good to open our lives to others, especially those who become important to the people closest to us. We don’t choose who our kids marry, but we choose how we accept and grow with them. I get to “mom” another person, one who is important to me. Plus, he comes from a large family. While I might not see them often, they are an extension of him, and I consider them my extended family. More people to encourage; more people to encourage and love the people I love.

Marriage doesn’t assure or require we accept and invest in others. We can refuse to truly welcome people. We can reject, demean, and leave people. But if we do, we miss out. Family is more than obligatory family traditions. Family is doing life together – adventures, celebrations, conflicts, challenges, and more. It’s not picking and choosing when it’s convenient and comfortable.

In that one day of power painting, we finished the kitchen. (Well, he put it all back together once I left.) We made things more beautiful but the process was messy. In fact, I even left a bit of mess behind when they noticed a splatter of paint I must have left on my last quick painting pass before packing up to go home.

They can clean it up. After all, that’s what we do for each other as family.