Wishing For Long Arms

I know what you're thinking. Diana, what an incredibly beautiful picture of two models you've posted! Well, sorry to disappoint you ... but those two gorgeous, young, unwrinkled blondes are my husband and me a few years back. And by a few years, I'm talking 31 years ago. This was the picture that we put on our wedding invitation. Wes has been likened to Grizzly Adams with his full, bushy beard and headful of hair. Now that I think about it, I think this is one of the few times I've ever seen him wear a tie. Man! He really loved me to wear a tie for our picture!! I, on the other hand, had the Farrah Fawcett hairstyle (accented beautifully with Sun-In Hair Color) and lacquered down with about 100 pounds of hairspray. Considering that I only weighed 98 pounds at the time, this was quite a feat. Yes, it's true -- the hairspray I used doubled my body weight. But, my hair looked great.

Weren't we a cute couple?! Little did we know what was ahead of us. Here we are 31 years, 4 children, 2 grandbabies, and 9 dogs later. Neither one of us have quite the hair that we had once upon a time, and the gray is way more noticeable now than the blond. We've added a few pounds, but Wes has somehow managed to dodge the wrinkles better than I have. And there is no way in the world that we'd agree to sit down in grass like this picture shows again. First of all, because I'm deathly afraid of getting a tick, but secondly because I don't know if either one of us could manage to get up again. We'd be stuck in this pose until we died and then a special casket would have to be made to hold us both. But you know what? I think we're still a cute couple!! We still walk down the street holding hands. We can still practically read each other's thoughts.He still makes me laugh and giggle like I was 18 again.

Last night, as I was almost asleep, I felt this shaking from the other side of the bed. No, it wasn't an earthquake. No, it wasn't one of the many dogs that tries to sneak in to the bed to sleep with us (by the way, we only have 3 dogs now). It was my husband trying in vain to reach an itchy spot on his back. When he realized I was awake, he said, "I wish my arms were longer so I could scratch my own back." And I laid there and laughed. Now that I'm wide awake, I see that I should have offered to scratch my poor husband's back. Instead, I managed a weak giggle and then promptly fell asleep. Sorry about that, Wes! I definitely owe you a back scratching!

We've had a lot of "wishes" over the years. In our poorer days, we'd wish for money enough to go out to eat ... or for the ability to buy a car that was younger than we were. Once our house was full of children, we'd wish for a night alone in our bed without children and pets invading us ... or the opportunity to have a full, uninterrupted conversation. Now that we're dealing with an empty nest, we wish for the children to come home more ... or that I could actually make it to 10:00 pm without falling asleep on the couch.

Wes and I married young. We met just a few weeks after I turned 18, were engaged 3 months later, married a year later, and had our first baby a year after that. Life has been a whirlwind ever since. And it's been full of wishes. But even better than that, it's been full of promises kept and dreams fulfilled. Honestly, I'm sure he has wished more than once over the years that I would lose the ability to speak ... or that I would quit trying to organize everything around me. He still laughs at my spices that are in alphabetical order (but he can find anything he's looking for in there!!). Regardless of what he's wished, he's managed to do what he promised when we stood in front of 300 people. He's hung around (yay!), provided for our family, been an incredible dad, loved me like I'm forever 18, and been my best friend.

Wishes are definitely fun to make. But you can't build a home on wishes alone. It takes the foundation of a promise kept, a commitment made, and a vow taken. And I'm so grateful that I met a man who stood by his word. To add to all of that, he opens the cemented jelly jars, kills the deadliest spiders, changes light bulbs, and looks at me like I'm still 18 ... but that's another blog. :)

Favorite Moments

I've been trying to think on what have been my favorite moments of being a mom. I guess that's maybe a weird thing considering that I'm STILL a mom ... I'll always be a mom. It sounds like I'm thinking of retiring or something. Yes, my kids would probably appreciate that sometimes, but oh well! It can't be helped -- I am what I am. A mom. In essence, when they grow up, I kind of "retire", I guess. But it doesn't take much for the mom in me to come out full force when the need arises!! There have been a lot of incredible memories over the years though.

• Boys running imaginary bases in the living room
• Waking up at night in our full-sized bed and having 4 children laying between us ... on us ... over us (you get the picture)
• Having my son tell me he was going to live with me forever (he's a liar)
• Crawling in to the hospital bed with my daughter as she had tubes both going in to her and coming out of her. I remember trying to not squash any of the tubes or the cords, but she wanted me to hold her ... and there wasn't much that I wanted any more than that.
• Opening Christmas presents at 4:00 in the morning. Our pictures weren't very impressive that year. It was dark outside, and my husband and I had only had about 2 hours of sleep because we had been putting toys together. But the kids had awakened, been put back to bed, awakened again, put back to bed again, and awakened yet again before we finally gave up.

Just a few of my memories. I hang on to those memories, just like I hang on to the hand-drawn pictures and cards that my kids made over the years, or the stories with misspelled words and crazy illustrations. They're priceless to me. Examples? Oh! I'd LOVE to!

• The anatomically correct picture of me getting out of the shower that my son made for the Mother's Tea at preschool (Momma learned to lock the bathroom door).
• The note that one son gave to his brother threatening that "I know where you sleep". He didn't sign it ... just drew a face wearing glasses (he was the only child we had who ever wore glasses).
• The letter that my daughter wrote to the family that she now wanted to be called Lightning because she could run really fast.

I look back at my almost 30 years of being a mom and can honestly say that there hasn't been one favorite time for me. They've all been favorites. I loved the baby stage of rocking, cuddling, nursing, and playing. Seriously, is there anything any better than holding a precious sleeping baby? I loved the preschool stage of learning. Children at this age think you know it all and are sooooo wonderful. And what about the elementary school years when the kiddos are growing so quickly? They start branching out, finding friends, but are still firmly anchored to home. I loved the craziness of middle school. We always seemed to have a houseful of kids here -- ours and everyone elses. It was fun! I even loved the chaos of the teenage years -- driving cars, playing sports, deepening voices, hairy legs (The hairy legs just apply to the boys. Our daughter would NOT appreciate being grouped in this category.). True, there were moments in all of these stages that I wasn't too crazy about ... that brought fear or uncertainty, but overall -- it's been good. And now that all of our kids are young adults, I'm finding that this is a great stage as well. Okay, I admit there were times that I've cried over our kids, prayed over them and for them, cried some more, worried, and panicked way more than I should have, and probably didn't like a kid for some reason or another (my kids don't read my blog. I can say that.). I always loved our children though, even though I worried and cried and prayed and panicked and got mad. Now that they're adults, I like the people our children have become.

I continue to hang on to memories though. They're just not as "tangible" as the anatomically correct drawing or the photo of two boys covered in mascara and lipstick. They're more in my mind -- young adults sitting around a table playing a game, hollering and laughing ... getting a phone call to ask my advice ... helping with college homework in a class I've never taken before ... experiencing my husband and our sons watching a football game together (and it IS an experience, let me tell you! Shouting, body contortions, jumping, and screams. Gotta love it!). Regardless of how the memories are made, whether they're drawn or photographed or merely lived, they're all priceless and precious ... and have made me extremely grateful for what I've been given in the gifts of my children.

Transformation

When I was under 20, I soooooo desperately wanted to be older. Man! Just the thought of that makes me want to go back in time and slap myself silly. I look at my children and grandchildren and see their flawless, beautiful skin without all of the wrinkles and age spots. Of course, if they're sitting too close to me, I can't see them all that well and have to scoot back a bit and let these middle-aged eyes adjust, but I KNOW their skin is beautiful because I've seen it before. They move gracefully without groaning when they stand up. They eat without worrying about coronary artery disease, widening hips, or expanding waistlines. Their hair is thick and luxurious, not fine and see-through. They can hear a whisper across the room without saying, "What? What did you say? Did you say something to me?" And THEIR ads on Facebook aren't about denture creams, retirement homes, and colonscopy discounts.

But that's always been me. When I was younger, I wanted to be older. Now that I'm older, I'd love to be younger again. I'm just hoping that when I'm dead, I'll be content with that. But I'm not going to be talking about that topic today (my dying) but instead, I'm going to be focusing more on being content. That's not particularly one of my favorite topics. I've discovered that I kind of like griping and complaining. Unfortunately, I can ALWAYS find something to gripe and complain about. The trick has been to make it a little humorous so everyone around me is laughing and enjoying my rants and raves. I've also discovered that when you present something that is ugly and unacceptable as humorous, it's much more widely accepted.

Whether I accept aging or not doesn't really matter. I'm doing it whether I like it or not ... unless I die, but that again is a topic I'm not talking about today. I have to admit it -- I'm getting older. I don't think I want to say I'm old. That makes me think of soured milk or the Crypt Keeper. I'm just aging. Sounds semi-acceptable, and excruciatingly true.

But with age comes wisdom. Yes, it's true. I actually have collected a little bit of wisdom in my 40+ ... okay, I'll admit it ... my 50 years. Sigh. I've learned that

• When my dad told me that money didn't grow on trees, it was actually true. I can't tell you how many times I've prayed for a money tree, and science has yet to find that particular species. Sad to say, but it's not out there.
• Water, regardless of what I thought, wasn't free when it came out of the faucet -- you had to pay for it. And now we actually pay for water in bottles? What next?! Paying for air? Oh yeah, we already do that, too! Oxygen bars, canned air for computers ...
• All of the "I'm sorry"s in the world don't take back hateful, angry words. Sometimes it's better to lose the fight and to keep your mouth shut.
• Just because I'm organized and I think things through in an orderly and logical fashion, doesn't mean I'm always right. And even if the person I'm disagreeing with isn't orderly, logical, or even anywhere close to it ... well, it doesn't make them automatically wrong. Even as I'm typing this, it doesn't make sense to me. I just know it's true because I've learned it along the way.
• Boys really DO think differently than we girls do. They don't outgrow it. They just become men who continue to think differently.
• What we look like on the outside isn't what God sees. He sees the heart and the intent. He looks deep within to our thoughts. That's maybe the scariest thing to me, because the deeper I go, I think the uglier I get. Amazingly enough though, He loves me through and through ...as deep as He can go.
• Friends come and go. Money comes and goes. Jobs come and go. Family is the closest thing to permanence that we have on this earth. We need to treasure it and nurture it.
• Just because I don't like something that is happening, doesn't make it not happen. God doesn't sit on His throne and worry if I'm going to like what He does in my life. He just asks me to trust and go along on the roller coaster of life with Him. His eyes, unlike mine, haven't gotten weaker. He still sees the big picture and knows what's ahead.
• No matter where I go or what I do, I take God with me. He has promised to never leave me or forsake me and I've lived in a way where I've seen that to be true. I tried to run from Him for years, and He'd remind me of His presence in the most inopportune moments. I hated it at the time, but it's like my eternal security blanket now.

So, yeah, I guess my thought today is that I'm very obviously older. My mirror tells me that everyday. I have a son or two that does the same thing. I've learned through years of pain and experiences, and honestly, I don't think I could have learned it any other way. I'd like to think that when God looks at me, He doesn't see the spider veins and blubbery tummy, but instead He sees someone who deep inside is transforming more and more into a likeness of Him. The transformation process isn't quick ... or fun. But, it IS a transformation. I AM learning. And God is definitely patient to teach me things from the daily and mundane to the deep and spiritual.

So, in the next 20 or 30 years, when I'm reading this blog while wearing my dentures and hearing aids, I'll probably say I want to come back and knock myself silly with my cane. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll just smile and realize that the transformation is still continuing, God is still teaching, and I am still learning.

Cool? I Think Not ...

Okay, I realize it. I am not cool. I used to think I was ... but no longer. There was a time years ago when I dressed cool ... talked cool ... looked cool ... and was just plain cool. Now? Well, not so much.

When I was younger, we all wore these skin-tight blue jeans. So tight, in fact, that I had to lay down on the bed to zip them up. I even had a friend who kept a pair of pliers by her bed to grab on to her zipper so she could zip her pants up. Yep, we were cool. Gorgeous and cool in our skin-tight jeans. We'd slither and slink through school or the clubs, knowing that we were absolutely amazing and everyone else wanted to be us. We had the "cool" look: skinny, dressed in jeans that looked like they were painted on, silky shirts, high heels, and big hair. Shoot forward to the present. If I were put into skin-tight jeans now, I'd look like a sausage wrapped in bread wrapped in another piece of bread wrapped in Saran Wrap. Not pleasant. Now I live in elastic waisted athletic shorts (the roomier, the better), baggie t-shirts, messy hair, and flip-flops (that we used to call thongs, by the way.) Definitely not cool.

Back in my cool days, I'd stay up all night long, wearing my skin-tight jeans dancing the night away in my Candy heels. We danced The Hustle or mimicked the dances off of Saturday Night Fever, mouthing all of the words along with Barry Gibbs. Now, I'm yawning at 9:00 ... and darn proud of myself if I make it to 11:00 without falling asleep on the couch. The most embarrassing part about being uncool and having to go to bed early is that when I DO stay up late, I wind up getting the sleepy sillies. I'll laugh at the most ridiculous things, and it's not just a polite little laugh, but a snorty, bellowing guffaw. Then, usually I wind up in hysterics, alternating between snorting, crying, hiccuping, and shrieking. My family usually hides from me when I'm in this state of mind and just encourages me to go to bed. Yep, not cool at all.

There was a time when the way I spoke would let people know I was up-to-date and obviously cool. I knew all of the latest slang and when to use it in the most appropriate way. And, I understood what everyone else was saying, too. I also vaguely remember laughing at people over 30 who said "neato" and "keen" or "groovy". I have learned that cool language, once again, is not the case for me anymore. It's not cool to tell people that you're "fixing to" go to the store. If you say a boat was "tumped over" or someone's shirt is "tucked out", you get some mighty strange looks. You don't roll up a "winda", you don't use a "yella" crayon, and you definitely don't eat "bowled aigs" (boiled eggs, for those of you that need an interpreter). You don't call people "cutie patooties", you don't laugh when someone "toots", and you don't mention your "bottom" or your "tummy". To me, bad is really bad ... phat is just plain stupid ... and hot is another one of those danged hot flashes. My language, according to my family, has seemed to evolve over the years to a mixture of backwoods hillbilly refugee and old fogie (another old person term, by the way).

Nope, I'm not cool anymore. Strangely enough, it's really fine. My four-year-old grandbaby thinks I'm hilarious and incredibly awesome and pretty and all kinds of wonderful adjectives. Cool is really seriously overrated ... unless, of course, you ARE experiencing one of those ridiculous hot flashes and then it's really awesome!

Conversations

There have been a lot of interesting conversations in my house this last week. Conversations like:
* what heaven will be like
* why the best "diets" are constantly changing (low-fat, low-carb) but they're ALL usually low-taste
* why God created ticks
* how the biggest tear-jerker movie of all time is "The Notebook"
* we're an hystically funny family -- to us, at least!
* what purpose do colors serve (other than just being pretty)
* who is better looking on So You Think You Can Dance -- Neal or Legacy
* why when we're so sleepy do we get giggly and silly
* why some people have knuckle-toes and some people have toes that look like link sausages
* how come the guy who built our house cut such corners and put everything in so sloppily
* why people say you "turn" 50 ... like the milk "turns" sour. Ugh! There's got to be a better term!
* in all of the places in the world to live, we live in Oklahoma - where there are tornadoes, ice storms, outrageous heat and humidity, hail the size of melons, and earthquakes
* wouldn't it be nice to be one of those people who look pretty when they cry instead of being spotted, swollen, and snotty
* how people and their animals have some of the same characteristics

But my favorite conversation of the week by far has got to be the one regarding God's grace. We've talked about how as man we struggle to believe in God and what He says. We get angry, we pout, we fight, and sometimes we might even to choose to walk away. Even then God doesn't turn away or reject us. He continues to go with us wherever we choose to take Him. It doesn't matter if our choice is a good one or a bad one; He goes with us. It doesn't matter if we're being loveable and honoring Him, or running as far away in the other direction as we can go; He loves us just the same. We will have to experience some discipline and consequences as a result of our choices, but it doesn't change how God feels about us. God welcomes our questioning. He wants to be with us in the struggle. He wants us. Period.

Talking about God's grace and love always brings me back to my favorite verse in Scripture: Hosea 6:6 (The Living Bible)
"I don't want your offerings; I want your love.
I don't want your sacrifices; I want you to know Me."

This verse just really brings God in to a clearer picture for me. He loves me. He wants to know me. And He's constantly showering His inexplicable grace upon His people. Honestly, this is one conversation that doesn't make sense to me. I don't understand the "why's" of His love and grace. I just know it's real. God's grace makes me want to know even more about Him ... makes me not want for there to be any barriers between us ... makes me want to trust Him and have faith even when I don't understand. There's a lot I DON'T understand (that was another conversation of the week, by the way!), but God does. And, it's okay. It really is -- because I know He's in control and He operates out of His glory and love. I might not know it all ... but I know enough to realize that I'm going to follow Him. There's no other place I'd rather be!!

God's Antibiotic

It's been two different times now that I've heard from a doctor that my daughter's life had been saved by some sort of medical procedure. Once was 14 years ago after she developed complications after a ruptured appendix, and the second time was a few days ago when she was diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and treated aggressively and quickly. If you think about that, we've all taken antibiotics, so technically we've all been "saved" at one time or another, right?! But to have a doctor tell you that your daughter was critical and her life was very well saved by quick action from another doctor or a new medical procedure -- well, honestly that's really scary to hear. It's encouraging ... it's a moment of thankfulness ... but scary!

And I keep thinking about all of the things that God has in store for my daughter. I'm not saying that she's going to cure world hunger,or that she's going to find the answer to world peace (although she's really cute and funny. That has nothing to do with anything -- I just wanted to throw it out there!). But God obviously has a special plan and purpose for her. That might simply be to be a godly wife and mother and to train up the next generation for the Lord, and that's a wonderful calling! It might be to counsel other women in their marriages and family relationships. Who knows? But, it's her own specific purpose, planned out for her by the Father. Of course, her "general purpose" (if you want to call it that) is to walk with her Lord in fellowship and worship Him -- just as it is MY general purpose.

We moms need to pray intensely for our children -- that they will look to God for their purpose, that they will choose to follow Him and walk according to His Word ... and we need to help set that example. Honestly, there's a fate worse than ruptured appendix complications or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and that's a wasted life lived apart from the Lord. But even then, God ALWAYS has the "antibiotic" ready. What a great God we serve!!

Our Path

When my husband and I got married, we were put on a path. We were young and in love so we didn't particularly care WHAT path it was or WHERE it was going ... we were together, and that was enough.



We're older now ... hopefully wiser ... and the path has been an interesting one -- one that I'm very grateful for. I've been grateful for my incredible husband and the One Who has walked with us every step of the way.



Then we had children. And boy, did those children add twists and turns to our path! Twists, turns, ups, down, sharp corners, dizzying speeds, highs, and lows ... but again, we've all been together and that's been good.



We've grown older with our children (maybe BECAUSE of our children!), but we've learned so much more than we could have learned on our own. We've learned how to bend and not break ... how to work together as a couple ... how to love and forgive ... how to look past the moment and in to what God's doing in the future. It's been good.



And then God outdid Himself! He not only added a grandbaby to our family ... He added color to our path. Suddenly, all of the twists and turns, the sharp corners, the highs and the lows were in vivid, breathtaking colors. What beauty He added!! What joy He has multiplied!



Having a grandbaby has taught us to slow down and enjoy the simple things -- like lady bugs ... or bubble baths ... or fireworks. We've seen that God intends for us to experience great joys in this life, to relish the small moments, to take joy in the every day instances.



And God just continues to add to this path that we're on. Coming from a person who likes to be in total control and to know everything that's going on, the path has sometimes been rough. Yet, it's been a path that has led to our learning and growth, our being stretched, our being blessed. Can't wait to see what else He has in store!