In the past few months, I have to admit that I have been a hot mess. The board and pieces of my game are not what I started with at the beginning of 2022. In November, my mom was hospitalized on two separate occasions. There was a lot of back and forth from home to the hospital and finally back home. I spent hours talking to my mom and seeing deeper into her heart. On her first stay, she actually took care of the woman in the bed next to her. My mom felt compassion for this woman. She told me that her "roommate" spoke "broken" English, and she was in constant panic mode. My mom held this woman's hand through the night to help calm her fears. In the process, my mom didn't get a wink of sleep for multiple nights. Her second trip occurred on November 25th, the day after Thanksgiving. She was admitted after they finally diagnosed her with cancer. I remember thinking, "What the hell?" She had been sick for a while, and this was just being caught now? The next few days, my family was with her around the clock. This time around, because of her diagnosis, she was given a room all to herself. Since COVID happened, the hospital rules have been wildly controlling. We found it difficult to "pass go," aka the front desk. My sister and I practically begged to get up to her room each morning so that at least one of us could be there when the doctors came in. As the days went by, we were provided with information, misinformation, and direction. Mom decided that she would roll the dice and not go through chemo because she wanted quality over quantity. The cancer had spread from her ovaries and was invading her body. We did our best to keep her comfortable and happy during her stay. Preparations were being made to get her home. I remember making her promise me that she would not die in the hospital. Her response was, "I won't as long as you promise that I will die laughing" So I did what I could to keep the game interesting. I performed my version of the Nutcracker and danced around her hospital bed. When my brother arrived, I tried to convince him to take over the role of Clara. My mom laughed. It was a good day until it wasn't. She started to feel tired and not well. She said that I should go home for a little while. She wanted to sleep. I went to my sister's house. We had dinner, and I called my mom to do my evening "check-in" She was crying. I was out of my mind with worry. Visiting hours were over, and I frantically started thinking of how I was breaking into the hospital and not having to go "directly to jail" in the process. My sister, the quick thinker, remembered that her son-in-law was finishing up his shift at the hospital. She called him, and he went to sit with my mom. Thank God for Jesse! Jesse and my mom spent the next few hours talking about Jesus, heaven, and God's love and forgiveness. God always has a plan. Mom came home on December 4th. She was happy to be in her own space. She was in pain but happy. We planned a "coming home" party for her for the following day. All of her favorite foods were being prepped and gathered for the feast. Her family came to hang out with her as she settled into her space. Some flew in, and some visited via FaceTime. She was home! She kept her promise. Now, her tribe needed to keep her happy. My sister and my nieces stayed with her throughout the entire night, just holding her, loving her, and staring at her (not to mention any names, Regis). The next morning, my sister had an urgency in her voice. I was already on my way to her house when I realized that God was once again directing my path. The same route I took to get to my dad when he took his final breath was the same route my daughter, Kath (who was driving), chose to take that morning. We arrived, and it was clear that Mom was ready to go. Her tribe was called, and everyone who could make it to her side was there. We all gathered around her. We sang her favorite songs, prayed, laughed, told stories, held her hands, and walked her into heaven. It was a beautiful time of loving on my mom and saying goodbye.
The hours, days, weeks, and months that followed were a bag of mixed emotions. I got lost in my sadness. I had moments of guilt for not being a better daughter. Not only that, but I had moments of frustration and moments of darkness. I was very, very lost. I felt blank, if that makes sense. My identity was a bit shaken and not so lightly stirred. I found myself just getting through each day. Some days I only had the desire to surf the nonsensical world of social media. I found it difficult to absorb the words written on a page. I couldn't hear words spoken because my thoughts were so loud. The sky was gray even on the sunniest of days. I prayed but couldn't hear, see, or feel God's response. I just felt like, "Hmmmmmm, who am I now? I was stuck on the board, and the game seemed to go on without me taking my next turn.
Admittedly, as I sit here, I feel the need to find me again. It's time to select my pawn (I always liked the thimble, but have you seen the T. rex?). After hours of rereading some of my blog posts, I stumbled upon words that planted a smile across my face. I continued to move my game piece across the board, and I landed on a post from 2018 that caused me to hit pause. "It's crazy the things we allow ourselves to do to fill the time," was the statement that struck me, like receiving the "dealbreaker" card. Hold.the.presses. I am still spinning around the same nonsensical patterns in my life five years later. I have gone around the game board multiple times, passed "go", collected my salary, seen some bank errors, paid doctor's fees, and a few other community chest cards have been turned. Oh, the crazy and dispensable patterns I have gotten lost in while moving around this so-called board. I believe we all have the potential to go in the direction of unnecessary things in this world. We are all prone to allowing our minds to wander and our actions to be mundane. We spend more time filling our time than we do really enjoying our time. I reflected, once again, on the valuable time spent with my mom during her days here on my gameboard. But more specifically, her last 10 days. Those days were filled with Christmas music, connections, love, growth, faith, trust, and things that really matter (John Denver's greatest hits). I loved and enjoyed filling my minutes and moments with Mom and family. Looking back, I can now say that I appreciated the awkward silence, uncertain glances, and hidden tears and fears.
Since my mom passed around the board for the final time, it feels as though I put my game in autoplay. I stare at the screen on my hand-held device, waiting and watching everyone else roll the dice and post their victorious moments on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and something called Telegram. Initially, I found a sense of joy as I looked into their worlds. I wanted to be put together, happy, energized, organized, and stroll and roll like the individuals I "followed" I tried a few of the popular "21-day" challenges (lasting maybe a few days), hair tips (unsuccessfully), and some makeup advice (Oh, WOW, can someone say Bozo the clown?). It just seemed so easy to sit and do nothing while living vicariously through others. In Romans 12:2, I am reminded, "Stop imitating the ideals and opinions of the culture around you, but be inwardly transformed by the Spirit through a total reformation of how you think. This will empower you to discern God's will as you live a beautiful life." The world is full of distractions and the next best "things" Like most, when I find myself caught up in the distractions, I seek to cast blame: "It's not my fault those distractions prevented me from... Oh, the blame game. Yes, I have been rolling the dice, flipping the cards, and moving the tokens in every direction. I have moved every chance card into the discard pile over the past few months. I have been seeking reasons (or people, places, and things to blame) as to why my life and my faith seem to have grown a bit stale. My lack of desire to connect with God grew with every daily reminder that I had a few lives restored in Toy Blast. Not only that, I seem to have no motivation to read my instruction manual. I woke up, and instead of doing my daily devotional, I was drawn to the handheld device next to my pillow, which again takes me on a journey through the lives of my family, friends, and acquaintances. So many of their opinions on political views and the state of our country seemed to be devouring my soul. As I continued to allow myself to get lost in the social media wormhole, I fell further and further away from where I was supposed to be. There have recently been moments when I felt that I wanted nothing to do with "religion" Every time I thought about how the nonbelieving world saw "Christianity," I cringed. I have a difficult time relating to the characteristics that Christians have recently been labeled with: judgmental, fire and brimstone, arrogance, hate-filled, and so many other aspects. Religion no longer seems to be a belief in faith and mystery. Instead, it feels like it has become a loud certainty that "I am right". "You are wrong". "Shut up and listen to my truths!" Even in some of my Christian circles, believers hold tightly to what they feel to be the truth, even when they disagree with another Christian. I am pretty certain I can be very guilty of that too. Also, in politics, there appears to be no dialogue. There's no conversation. Everyone seems so set in their "truths," aka "opinions," that they tune others "truths," aka "opinions," out. There's just blame. The blame game appears to be the most popular way to discharge our confusion, discomfort, and even our own pain. So much so that we have flipped the board game over and put the thimble in our ears just so we can tune out the noise of others' truths. It seems so much easier to "cancel" others out instead of allowing them to take their turn, roll the dice, and move. I laugh when I think about how God created each of us with one mouth and two ears. We should all talk less and listen more. We all have our own version of the truth. And to some, their truth can often be seen as untrue by others. It's all in one's perspective. I believe we are all in this board game for a reason. Each one of us is on a faith journey. We aren't here to shatter each other's truths, faith, beliefs, aspirations, or dreams. We need to acknowledge that we are all imperfect creatures. Each of us, at one time or another, has struggled with the way the game is being played. We need to learn to play strategically and respectfully with each other. We all go around the board based on how the dice are rolled. Sometimes we advance, and every so often we lose a turn for one reason or another. We are all worthy of love and belonging. We must listen and truly hear what others are saying.
Recently, I had dinner with friends. Girlfriends are good for the soul! My soul was dehydrated from a lack of time spent with the wonderful women in my life. When we get together, we talk about the fun stuff, the extremely difficult stuff, and everything in between. Hydrating my soul was long overdue. Honestly, I am embarrassed to say how long it has been since we had a girl's night. I was going to "blame" busyness for the delay in our plans because that is the simplest response. But in all reality, I was caught up in my lack of motivation, depression, and grief, among other things. I had no problem making time for my hand-held device and all the games and social media it contained. I know that I should have made time for the "in person" events. But I struggled. Honestly, I still seem to second guess the "what's, where's, and when's" of my being physically and mentally present. Again, "It's crazy the things we allow ourselves to do to fill the time." As our dinner and conversations went from pets to children and various other topics, I eventually told them how I was feeling and where I was in my faith. Each of us is in different places when it comes to our beliefs and faith. However, I never feel judged or out of place when speaking with them. I honestly feel like we hear each other and push each other to grow. One of my bonus treasure friends said something to me that night, and it has been stuck in my head ever since. "Some people have the light and others don't. It doesn't matter how religious or non-religious you are." These beautiful women are a light in my world. And I would like to think I am a light in theirs as well. We make each other shine and bring joy to each other's lives. "Joy is a light that fills you with hope, faith, and love." Adela Rogers St. John
Again, it's crazy that I have been allowing my days to be consumed with the negativity and light-snuffing reality of the apps, social media sites, and other nonsensical virtual platforms. I reflect a great deal on how this "virtual" way of life has and will persuade my granddaughters and grandson. They are growing up in a world that is dictated by social media posts. I see so many adults, teens, children, toddlers, and babies being filtered, airbrushed, and exploited. There is too much pressure for them to be perfect in the literal sense. I even feel the pressure of Facebook and Instagram. I am not thin enough, pretty enough (filter out those wrinkles if you can), smart enough, fit enough,... The list is never-ending. The future of our children, grandchildren, and all the children of this crazy world needs us to not only acknowledge that we are all imperfect beings for ourselves and those we don't see eye to eye with, but to acknowledge their imperfections and encourage and guide them in love as they move their tokens across the board. God created each of us. We are uniquely and wonderfully made. There is no such thing as "cookie-cutter" humans. If I truly believe that we are all created in His image, then I should see the beauty in every individual and embrace the imperfections that make them perfectly who they are. "I thank you, God, for making me so mysteriously complex! Everything you do is marvelously breathtaking. It simply amazes me to think about it! How thoroughly you know me, Lord!" Psalm 139:14 TPT,
I have been soul-searching a lot to understand why and how I got to where I am today. I realize that I need to have courage and compassion for myself. No blame is necessary. I am broken. I have allowed the stigmas, condemnations, and unfortunate situations to bring me to a place of blame. Not only that, but I found that I had a lack of courage. I need to reveal the truths that are in my heart. The truth is that right now I am so broken and humbly standing before my creator, asking for Him to guide this imperfect creature through the struggles to draw closer to Him. I want to deliberately seek His plan and purpose. I want to deliberately acknowledge my thoughts and behaviors. Likewise, I want to be encouraged to make better, new, and divergent choices. I hope to roll the dice and move ahead. This all takes courage. I know deep down that I have what it takes. I am not sure exactly what the steps or process are. But I do know that it takes heart to have courage, faith to have faith, and love to have love.
Perhaps it’s that blog entry that is making me dig deep into an area of my heart that needs to be addressed. "Where am I", "What's holding me back", "Am I willing to seek God" I no longer want to try to be perfect and pretend. It's time for me to let myself be fully seen. I want to be deliberate in my actions when I practice joy and gratitude. At the end of every day, as I reflect on all that I did and all that I didn't accomplish, I trust that I am enough. God doesn't require that I do everything. He just lovingly suggests that the things that I accomplish are done in love.
"Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are," says Marianne Williamson.
