We’ve “known” each other a long time, but never met. She loves on new-born babies as they enter this harsh world, with total gentleness, I’m sure breaking the shock for the little ones she holds so dear.
She loves on grown ups the same way.
Which explains why she would be so kind as to invite me to guest post at her place.
Sometimes I say my bones are aching and it helps if I teach. Ever feel that way?
I think it’s maybe being part of the Creation process. When I see the lightbulb coming on in someone else’s understanding, it moves me, thrills me to the bone.
I love teaching, helping understanding to exist where it never did before. It’s not exactly creating, but like a potter with clay, I can mold someone’s mind to fit around new material, new cognizance, or even completely new thoughts that no one has ever realized before.
Research also thrills me. Discovering small things about big events or important people makes me want to teach some more. For instance: Did you know that as a child, Albert Einstein absolutely loved Euclid’s geometry and called it “that holy little algebra book” or that at age 5, he wondered what frozen light would look like? Who ever thinks of THE genius as a small child with wonderment inside his soul? Or that some adult fed him books over most children’s heads, just for the joy of watching that light come on?
See, I just taught you something and opened your thinking more. What a rush!
Sometimes I tutor. One young girl is learning so much about writing, she has developed an enjoyment for the writing process. Seeing the difference in her output this year gives me such excitement. I think of the joy she will bring to her family as her skills increase and she cements them through practice.
I tutor a couple of legal immigrants in their new language, English, and we have fun exchanging culture, too. I explained our local phrase regarding appetites for all foods, as we say, “eat everything that is not nailed to the table.” They laughed enormously at that and now use the saying (in their own language, which is fine with me.) Then they confessed their tiredness of pizza and their longing for cultural dishes they cannot yet prepare. I taught them to say, “I am tired of pizza, but it is better than nothing,” and as they remember their old country and having nothing to eat, they sober and regain resolve to find a way to afford gas for their stove.
And though it is a small spark, I love seeing that light.
The most exciting teaching I do is from the Bible. So much light there. So many people don’t get it, cannot see it. Or don’t want to.
I laugh, still, at the comedian’s famous one liner:
I started out as a child…
He follows that with dead air, which becomes increasingly funny as he waits for his audience to “get it”. Hilarious!
However, didn’t we all originate most humbly, as completely needy persons?
Yes.
And we all remember those early days, remember something almost mystical about our lives from our teensy perspective. I remember the white satin, quilted surroundings in the bassinetteand my daddy’s face peeking over the top of it to grin at me.
I remember lots of it, but one thing I loved was the layout of our house, skinny and tall, two stories high but with only two bedrooms. I loved the carpeted staircase leading from the front door to the upstairs, so much, however, the back stairs, outdoors for some reason, were beyond my abilities. With open risers, treads with no “treads”, and a rail too high for a little one, they proved my downfall.
Since when I fell, I was carrying feed to my new baby ducks, I experienced the unique:
Duck feed in the eyes.
Although that was traumatic to me, what I remember most is my mom’s trauma and devastation. Her little first-born had fallen big and could have suffered all sorts of injuries. Likely, she writhed in guilt—I would have. And she expressed every drop of it in her tender ministrations to my little gritty eyes.
She even carefully explained to me that although normally, she would tell me not to cry, this was one time when it was good to cry, because tears would wash my eyes.
Amazing how hard it is to cry when everyone wants you to do so. I remember that, too. I can almost remember her voice, although I was ever so young.
So shocking as a small child to be told it’s okay to cry, just this once.
I’m sure she devoted an entire bottle of Murine to the task at hand. Of course I fought the idea of having anything more, deliberately placed into my eyes, as I lay on the couch with my head tipped back, crying, doing some writhing of my own,with eyes SHUT.
She won, though, as mother-love always does.
My bruises and scrapes healed quickly and my eyes have worked just great, for many a year.
My mom left this world, long ago.
The old two-story house could easily have become a drug-drop by now.
The quiet street where I played with another little girl, on her front steps, has probably been resurfaced so many times that it’s taller than the sidewalks.
Surely the duck pen is long-gone.
And the couch is dead.
The incredible gray paper with giant coral-colored roses on the living room walls has mercifully been replaced, I can imagine. No doubt, someone has painted over the beautifully varnished woodwork. The ceiling stain, telling of the time my brother and I got carried away, playing with toy dishes in the bathroom sink has, no doubt, been covered.
Furniture has gone down and back up those front stairs too many times. The back stairs, outdoors, have probably been re-worked many times.
And in my memory, the whole thing has never changed.
…But it’s the laughter we will remember, whenever we remember the way we were… –Alan and Marilyn Bergman
Tuesday, around noon, Beth and her husband were chatting on the sofa. She started having trouble forming her words and controlling her right hand. Her husband would not normally have been home but was sick so had stayed home from work (thankful for a sinus infection.) He called 911.
They got her to the hospital nearby and then she was transferred to the big one in the big city.
The current diagnosis is a hemorrhagic stroke. The neurosurgeon said it is basically in the worst place it could be. The CT scan showed it roughly 1.5 inches by 3 inches and “deep.” There is almost certainly some significant damage to the brain already. If the bleeding doesn’t stop, Beth will not make it. Surgery is an option but the surgeon said it rarely goes well.
Beth. Her husband says not a good picture of her, but it shows her joy.
Beth and I are old friends from back when we both homeschooled. We’ve shared so much. Although we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like, we never get really out of touch. You know how that goes.
Only now, we are really out of touch. All anyone can do is pray.
Lots of things could have been worse. She could have many small children; her only child is grown, employed, and happily married. She could have been alone; her husband was right there in the same room. She could have been afraid, but even in her current state, she is able to receive calming influence from her husband. She can see. She can indicate understanding by moving her eyes. She is in a very good hospital.
Hard to be thankful when all I really want is to go back in time.
Although a certain amount of sadness attaches itself to the thoughts surrounding it, today I have guest posted at Arkansas Women Bloggers Websiteas a guest blogger.
The sadness comes from the topic, which reminds me of joys, yes, but also of lost joys.
I won’t tell much more–don’t want to spoil the story for you, but do go overand read.
Find out why I’m behind on almost everything and why it was worth it.
And do pray for Sonny.
And for his mom.
It is ridiculous to talk about whether to put God in a box or not. God IS the box. WE are the ones in a box.
A couple of years ago, I read Katharine’s series on friendship. This blog series triggered some major self-reflection and prayer. It arrived at a time when I was struggling with too many commitments to too many people, and was finding myself utterly drained, and struggling with guilt that I could not be everything to everyone.
I have always surrounded myself with a lot of people, wherever I go. As an extrovert, I tend to befriend nearly everyone I meet. I have since found that I also have a strong introverted side, so I crave time alone. I need balance to maintain my sanity, but I had no center of gravity.
To be honest, I could see that I had an inordinate desire to be loved and liked by everyone, to be worthy of being called a friend by everyone. Essentially, I wanted to be popular. So, I over-extended in every direction. I allowed myself to be pushed and pulled from all sides. It didn’t matter how good my intentions were–I was beginning to drown.
Something had to change.
I had to stop, examine myself, and explore a better way for me to balance friendships with a limited amount of time. I found that what matters is choosing carefully where to spend my non-refundable time.
So, I questioned and re-ordered my priorities. I didn’t want to cut anyone off completely, just to make sure that the right people topped my list. It was a painful process.
I wasn’t really sure what to do, or how to do it. Katharine’s series supplied the springboard I needed to dive into the Word of God, learn from Jesus, and change. If anyone had innumerable demands on his time from innumerable directions, it was the Son of God. How did he order his friendships? Who did he give the bulk of his time to?
His timing was perfect in drawing me to Katharine’s corner of the Internet.
When I came to the conclusion of the series, I was struck by the outline of how Jesus’ friendships were structured. I really began to apply what I had read to my life, and this is what I learned.
Jesus, while on this earth, befriended thousands…
Jesus had a wide circle of acquaintance, numbering in the thousands. Mine is more in the hundreds, but I definitely have a wide circle. When you really think about it, we are all connected to more people than we realize, and that is a good thing.
120 who believed in Him, followed Him (Acts 1:15):
I have four children who love me and follow my every move everyday, all day. They believe in me and trust me. My doula clients and childbirth education students also have a level of trust they put in me. They hire me to influence them, so they put a lot of stock in what I have to say. In this sphere, I make a difference–for good or ill, remains to be seen.
72 who did ministry for Him (Luke 10:1 & 17):
I have many friends who are willing to minister with me, or to me. This is the wide circle of people I would run errands for, help with their children, and who would gladly return the favor, but we don’t necessarily spend a lot of time together.
At the time, this was where I felt the biggest stretch. I had a hard time saying “No.” If I didn’t have something in my calendar, I didn’t feel justified in turning anyone down, even if I was in desperate need of a quiet day of down-time. I have since learned that it’s okay to say “No,” even if I don’t have a “real” reason. It’s still hard for me, but I have found that people usually understand.
12 whom He discipled, whom He called “friends” (Mark 3:14):
Jesus had twelve disciples, to whom he actually applied the term “friends.” They were always together, sharing life. Sometimes fighting and bickering, but always together in the end (except for Judas).
In the past, I was trying to stuff everyone I met into this category. After a couple of years of practicing the art of saying “No,” I think I finally understand what this level of friendship entails, and I have made changes accordingly. If I named names, I would probably have about fifteen or so in this group, and these are the ones that are worth saying “Yes” to.
3 whom He granted more insight and understanding (Mark 5:37, 9:2, 14:33):
Jesus had three people–Peter, James, and John–with whom he shared things that he did not even share with the others he called friends. He spent more time with them, and asked more of them than anyone else.
I probably have five of these. I call these my “iron-sharpens-iron” friends. They are the ones who love me enough to call me out, or encourage me in ways no one else can.
In the past, I felt guilty if I spent more time with one or two than any other in my close circle. Now, I don’t worry about it so much, because I never see Jesus expressing guilt for singling out his three closest confidants.
The one whom He loved, who leaned upon Him at meals, to whom He entrusted His last revelation (John 13:33, 21:7, 20, Revelation 1:1-2):
Jesus had his close three friends, but out of those three, he had brotherly intimacy with only one. Just one person to whom he opened up completely. Besides my husband, I have two people I would consider myself to be this close to.
They are my “besties,” and I no longer feel guilty for keeping this circle closed.
Probably, the most important thing I have learned is this: Even the perfect Son of God couldn’t please everyone, or even all of his closest friends. Who am I to think that I, in my fallen state, can be anyone’s Everything? So, rather than be a friend to none, I choose to follow George Washington’s advice:
“Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”
What have you learned about friendships in this life?
Grace & Peace,
Tiffany
Tiffany blogs at The Faery Inn, where she shares her Fellow Inn-mates’ lives with anyone who cares to escape into amazing escapades. She is the happy wife of one super-understanding man, a home-schooling mother of four, a childbirth doula, and a childbirth instructor, in a breath-taking land of delirious mountains and devastating losses. I’ve reblogged her heartfelt posts from time to time and often wished to make it official. The happy event of my 30,000th visitor, (which she just happened to be) gave me the excuse I needed to invite her on over. Tiffany also is my most frequent commenter for 2013, which I also intended to celebrate, so here she is! A beacon in her honesty and constant in her loyalty, she has agreed to grace our day with the above, beautiful work. Go visit herand thank her for this lovely piece!
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