Monthly Archives: May 2013

Happy-Go-Lucky Lad Who Was Sad

Written on May 8, 2013 by Bridget in Parenting
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If you follow me on Instagram or Facebook, you may have noticed that recently I’ve posted pictures of one of my children more than I’ve posted of the other three. Here’s the thing: having a big family is hard. Having a big family means sometimes things and people get lost in the shuffle. Having a big family means that everyone has to help out, but often it’s the squeaky wheel who garners the most attention.

Lately I’d noticed my sweet Asa crying a lot more, coming up with more and more elaborate stories, and talking even louder than normal. If you know him, he’s already loud enough at his “normal” volume. It was the combination of all those things that made me really start to notice that he was struggling. My happy-go-lucky little lad just wanted my attention. The baby is a fit pitcher (what two year old isn’t?), his big sister is usually my shopping companion, and his big brother is very often bending my ear about science or Star Wars or something like that. He just wants to be heard. And so I’m trying very hard to stop and listen, even when a stuttering three word sentence takes two minutes for him to say.

I got a sitter when I went to his school program so that I could focus on just him and we ate lunch together and danced in the parking lot on the way to the car. He helped me cook dinner and he made dessert for the whole family. I cuddled up with him when he needed a nap and we laughed and giggled and nuzzled noses before we drifted off to dreamland. I watched him ride his bike all the way up the drive and back while the others were still inside. Little things, really, but not to him.

He’s not the squeaky wheel. At least not until recently. And I’d found myself frustrated with him for all the whining and crying and now? Now I feel awful because I realize he just wanted me to see him, to hear him. I try to celebrate them all. I try to make them all feel special sometimes. We go on dates and do one-on-one things together, but sometimes I miss the mark.

I’m trying really hard to see them as individuals and not as one unit. I’m trying to praise each one for what they do best and to help them understand that everyone is different and that that’s okay. I’m trying my best to make the everyday moments ones that lift their little spirits. It’s only fair, really, because they all certainly lift mine.

I believe.

Written on May 6, 2013 by Bridget in self
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A few years ago I wrote what has become a personal belief statement of sorts. I remember struggling with the words as I was writing them and at times I still struggle with them now. But there are moments when I’m feeling a little adrift in my spirituality and need an anchor. There are plenty of creeds and writings and, of course, the bible that I could turn to but sometimes I need something that’s mine, just mine. And so I find myself coming back to this again and again. I’ve needed it lately and thought I’d share it with you again.

*****

I am a Christian.

But I am not a good one.

I believe in one God-the maker of heaven and earth, the creator of things both seen and unseen.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, who inspires, encourages and directs us.
I believe in the forgiveness of my sins through the resurrected body of Jesus Christ.
I believe in life everlasting.

Just because I believe it doesn’t mean I understand it.

I believe that the bible was divinely inspired, but written by humans.
I believe the bible may not be perfect, but it is perfectly the way it’s supposed to be.
I believe that it’s not really the words that matter
as much as the meaning of the words
coupled with the inspiration of God
that is most important.

Just because I believe the bible might have some inconsistencies, doesn’t mean I think it’s invalid or unimportant.

I believe that God gives us unlimited, undeserved grace.
I believe that God gives us unlimited, undeserved mercy.
I believe that God gives us unlimited, undeserved chances.
And I believe that, as Christians, we are called to be like Jesus Christ-who demonstrated these perfectly.
I believe that although I may not be able to really comprehend it or even be successful at it,
I am still expected to try.

Just because I teach it, doesn’t mean I always live it.

I believe that God is love.
And out of love…grace, mercy, compassion, understanding and thoughtfulness flow freely.

Just because I know love – and know it abundantly – doesn’t mean I always show it.
Just because I know love – and know it abundantly – doesn’t mean I always accept it.
Just because I know love – and know it abundantly – doesn’t mean I always feel it.
Just because I know love – and know it abundantly – doesn’t mean I always savor it.
Just because I know love – and know it abundantly – doesn’t mean I delight in it.

I am a Christian.

But I am not a good one.

But (thanks be to God)
God is love.
And even when I don’t show it, accept it, feel it, savor it, delight in it…
God is bigger than me and my failures.
God is bigger than me.
And God is LOVE.

The greatest of these is LOVE.

I’m certainly no saint.

Written on May 1, 2013 by Bridget in self
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I glanced back through  my archives and I see over and over again where I’ve tried to lasso time, tried to slow it down. I say I want to savor it all, even the bad…because without the bitter, the good doesn’t taste as sweet. And it’s true. I want to bundle it up and keep it all for a rainy day. I want to be able to look back at these years and see things like they really were. Some days are undeniably awesome, others ridiculously hard. Some days full of joy and laugher, others bleak and dreary. I try to capture it all here in this space, try to give the big picture. I try to write it all down because I know I won’t remember it all. The way she says “bap-le” for apple, the way the big two grin when I wink and they realize that they know something that the little kids don’t, and even the nightmares he has when he thinks ants are crawling out of his toes. I want to remember it all, but I know I can’t. And so I write as much as I can. But even at that, I bend to the light. I tell more of the good than the bad. Is that self-preservation? Am I trying to re-write my own history? Am I doing myself, you, and my children a disservice by not chronicling the bad? Or is it just not kosher to talk about the muddy stuff? It is, after all, the muddy stuff that helps define who we are. It’s the underbelly of our souls that shape our hopes and plans. Shouldn’t we be analyzing that? And not only savoring the happy? (Could I possibly use any more ? in one paragraph)?

I recently re-read the play “Our Town” by Thornton Wilder. I’ve never seen the play or read the book when Emily’s words in the graveyard didn’t knock the wind out of me:

EMILY: Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?–every, every minute?
STAGE MANAGER: No. Saints and poets maybe…they do some.

Do we realize life as we live it? Do we see each moment for what it’s worth? Or do we focus so hard on what’s coming next that we don’t see the now? Are we so focused on getting it all right that we get it all wrong? I don’t know. I just don’t know. Although I do think that maybe I’m over-analyzing it all. Stop, Bridget. Just stop it. Stop and realize life – right here, right now. Every, every minute.

I’m certainly no saint, but I’d like to be a poet – even if it means getting a little muddy.

 

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