I think there's little quite as healthy for a woman's prayer life than having nearly grown children. Sure, you've spent years praying over their angelic heads while they finally (blessedly!) napped, as they headed off to their first overnight excursion, or took on a new skill. You've prayed for their precious little friends through illnesses and new challenges. You've prayed that they will develop discernment, be kind and generous. Prayed that they will have friends who are, too.
But there's something about the fledging process that will drop. you. to. your. knees.
I don't know if it's the fact that they're semi-autonomous, at least in all the ways that matter. They make most of their own choices, but you've got to watch. Sure, you're still there for advice, or, if need be, to help guide them from going off the deep end, but the reins have been passed at this point, and although you're still in the carriage with them (possibly clutching the railing and trying not to gasp and yell, but I just came out of two new drivers, back-to-back, so that could be me), they are the ones driving their own gig. And all that comes with it - success, failure, lessons learned, hopes nurtured, dreams realized... all of it is in their hands.
The stakes seem immense. (Bigger than they seemed when you were the fledgling with the feel of the reins in your hands!) They seem immense in a world where it seems one mistake, one misstep, one thoughtless moment will mark the end of every opportunity. They seem immense in a world where there is so much pressure to know what you're going to do, but very little expectation of knowing how to actually do anything. They seem heart-wrenchingly immense when you realize that someone else's poor choices could end your child's chance to live the life you've prepared him for.
And that's not even getting to the times that you, with your vantage point of years and failures and learning, can see an easier, quicker, more assured way forward... but they have the reins. They're in the thick of it. They're doing the best they can with the perspective they have.
But there's also something beautiful in it. When you learn to pray, you learn to let go. When you admit your fears, you realize they are not yours alone. When you pour the blessings of your heart out on behalf of someone else, you find your own heart is strengthened and emboldened. So when you look up from your prayer, you don't see a riderless carriage careening off a precipice, you see and adventure unfolding. You see that the carriage has a rider, and that the rider is not alone. And it is good.
I have absolutely no idea how any of this is going to go, but I'm excited more than I'm afraid, and that's a good, good thing.
Be encouraged!
~Dy
Tuesday, January 3
Monday, January 2
The High School Years, and Beyond
Blogging with Littles is easy. They're funny and quirky and sweet. They don't particularly care if you share their stories. Blogging with teens is a little trickier. (Stick with me, here. This isn't going where it looks like it's going, but I have an idea and I need to flesh it out. Lucky you!)
They're still funny and quirky and sweet, but even when you've tried to be thoughtful about your children's stories in the early years, you realize they're old enough to tell their own, now... also, that you've probably botched it many times over the years, anyway. Most bloggers stop writing. I get that. (Heck, I've done that!)
But for people who found encouragement or camaraderie or support in the writings of others, that full stop leaves a weird gap. There are moms out there who've followed bloggers with children a little older than their own*, and they were taking notes. (This, too, I get. I have notebooks, a few stray envelopes, and receipt scraps, filled with the words of wisdom and recipes from women whose children are now in their 20's.) We're left dangling.
"Wait! What about... and then... but... nooooo!" We wail as our tribe disappears into the fog. "How will we find the trail?"
The reality is that everyone's in the fog. Every mother you know who has an eldest child is brand spanking new at whatever she's doing right now. She's got no idea what she's doing. She desperately wants to do it well (just as soon as she can figure out what "it" is), and she mostly doesn't want the follies she's pretty sure she's stumbling into to become a template for anyone else. So she gets quiet. Pulls in. Takes the same conversations once held on a more public forum into private messaging and emails. For her children's sake, she takes it private; for her sanity's sake, she keeps her tribe.
But it's good to encourage others in whatever way you can. Whatever way you are comfortable with. I have one friend who managed to blog through her children's teen years. It was about six years of blogging the word "weird" in all its various forms. I didn't get it until about three years ago. Ohhh, yeah, "weird" about sums it up. She is a rock star, as far as I'm concerned.
Some people like to take it to the street, to make eye contact with weary mothers and give them a thumbs up or whisper, "You've got this." These people are making a difference on the front lines.
Some manage to write, conveying the salmon-like struggle upstream with grace and humor, while honoring their adultish offspring and still ringing true to others. I can't claim to be able to offer that, but it's the direction I'd like to go. I'd also like to revamp my sidebar of blogs with active blogs that are in that stage. An in-the-fog series of beacons, if you will. One of my favorites over the last two years has been Grown and Flown. What are some of yours?
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
* Yes, that part of the sentence is a grammatical nightmare, but the more I worked on it, the more tangled it became. So, the women are technically stealing other people's older children and then following yet other women around the world with the children in tow as they make everyone take notes. The visual's a little whimsical, at least, but I could feel the English language slipping away from my grasp the longer I dinked around with it. So as long as you can figure out what I meant, yay you! Just run with it.
They're still funny and quirky and sweet, but even when you've tried to be thoughtful about your children's stories in the early years, you realize they're old enough to tell their own, now... also, that you've probably botched it many times over the years, anyway. Most bloggers stop writing. I get that. (Heck, I've done that!)
But for people who found encouragement or camaraderie or support in the writings of others, that full stop leaves a weird gap. There are moms out there who've followed bloggers with children a little older than their own*, and they were taking notes. (This, too, I get. I have notebooks, a few stray envelopes, and receipt scraps, filled with the words of wisdom and recipes from women whose children are now in their 20's.) We're left dangling.
"Wait! What about... and then... but... nooooo!" We wail as our tribe disappears into the fog. "How will we find the trail?"
The reality is that everyone's in the fog. Every mother you know who has an eldest child is brand spanking new at whatever she's doing right now. She's got no idea what she's doing. She desperately wants to do it well (just as soon as she can figure out what "it" is), and she mostly doesn't want the follies she's pretty sure she's stumbling into to become a template for anyone else. So she gets quiet. Pulls in. Takes the same conversations once held on a more public forum into private messaging and emails. For her children's sake, she takes it private; for her sanity's sake, she keeps her tribe.
But it's good to encourage others in whatever way you can. Whatever way you are comfortable with. I have one friend who managed to blog through her children's teen years. It was about six years of blogging the word "weird" in all its various forms. I didn't get it until about three years ago. Ohhh, yeah, "weird" about sums it up. She is a rock star, as far as I'm concerned.
Some people like to take it to the street, to make eye contact with weary mothers and give them a thumbs up or whisper, "You've got this." These people are making a difference on the front lines.
Some manage to write, conveying the salmon-like struggle upstream with grace and humor, while honoring their adultish offspring and still ringing true to others. I can't claim to be able to offer that, but it's the direction I'd like to go. I'd also like to revamp my sidebar of blogs with active blogs that are in that stage. An in-the-fog series of beacons, if you will. One of my favorites over the last two years has been Grown and Flown. What are some of yours?
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
* Yes, that part of the sentence is a grammatical nightmare, but the more I worked on it, the more tangled it became. So, the women are technically stealing other people's older children and then following yet other women around the world with the children in tow as they make everyone take notes. The visual's a little whimsical, at least, but I could feel the English language slipping away from my grasp the longer I dinked around with it. So as long as you can figure out what I meant, yay you! Just run with it.
Sunday, January 1
The Good Things
2016 seemed like a grueling year in so many ways. But it wasn't all bad. In an attempt to archive some of the good (and some of it was Very Good, Indeed), I wanted to pick a highlight from each month to share. Like the habit of finding 3 Good Things to list when life gets difficult, but on steroids.
January - Z was gone a lot this year, and Dad Boxes, sent from on the road, were a highlight for everyone.
Also, Buddy finally got over his fear of the car. (He now hops in, goes all the way to the third row, and refuses to acknowledge that you're even speaking to him until you've taken him for a spin around the courthouse!)
March -- John and James were both called out for the Order of the Arrow.
In April, we biked the Silver Comet, starting at the AL/GA boarder.
Oh, and took pottery. This was a pretty fantastic month.
John, his best bud, and I volunteered at a Spartan Race. (The plan was to use our credit to race in May, but that fell through. Still, this was a pretty fantastic experience.)
May - prom! Steampunk. Because that's awesome.
And we bought kayaks for the Littles. OH, why did we wait so long? This was huge fun!
And Chemistry. Every week, with two other families. The house is still standing. There were a few explosions. Semi-controlled, and outside. So that was nice. This was hard, and good, and I'm SO glad we did this.
Jacob got to go to Space Camp. He's hooked, he's got his eye on Mars, and is saving to go back for the next level in 2017.
June - James was selected as a model for the Alabama Fashion Alliance. This changed the trajectory of the entire rest of the year. So much to learn, but such an interesting industry. And he loves it.
And back to Colorado! It was hard - very hard - to come back that last time. And did I tell you we hiked the Manitou Incline? I only got 3/4 of the way up before the Littles mutinied, but James and John made it to the top. Also, we got lapped by an octogenarian who clearly runs it daily just because he can, but even that was encouraging.
July -- We tried Durian for the first time. Because how can you not?
And then Jacob's best bud came home and spent a week scrabbling about the rocks with us.
August -- *phew* This one was hard. (That's not me in the pictures - as far as I know, there are no photos of me doing this. But I did it!) For someone who has no depth perception, is uncoordinated and afraid of heights, this was a gigantic feat. Scouting is cool.
September -- James had his first runway show.
And his second...
October -- we were still out in the kayaks every chance we got this Summer. Er, and fall.
And James received the rank of Eagle Scout!
November -- there's been a lot of fiber art action going on, here. I love these little miniature felted critters that Em made.
A visit from friends from out West!
And a birthday outing! (Actually, a lot of the kids turned 18 this year. This has been bittersweet, but the excitement and anticipation win out because they are just. such. great. young men and women.)
December -- we made it. Full lap. Holy cow.
Here's to 2017 bringing us a time of learning, discernment, joy, growth, support (both given and received)...
Be encouraged!
~Dy
January - Z was gone a lot this year, and Dad Boxes, sent from on the road, were a highlight for everyone.
February - we finally got around to designing and building a coffee table to go with the sofa! I love it!!
Also, Buddy finally got over his fear of the car. (He now hops in, goes all the way to the third row, and refuses to acknowledge that you're even speaking to him until you've taken him for a spin around the courthouse!)
March -- John and James were both called out for the Order of the Arrow.
In April, we biked the Silver Comet, starting at the AL/GA boarder.
Oh, and took pottery. This was a pretty fantastic month.
John, his best bud, and I volunteered at a Spartan Race. (The plan was to use our credit to race in May, but that fell through. Still, this was a pretty fantastic experience.)
May - prom! Steampunk. Because that's awesome.
And we bought kayaks for the Littles. OH, why did we wait so long? This was huge fun!
And Chemistry. Every week, with two other families. The house is still standing. There were a few explosions. Semi-controlled, and outside. So that was nice. This was hard, and good, and I'm SO glad we did this.
Jacob got to go to Space Camp. He's hooked, he's got his eye on Mars, and is saving to go back for the next level in 2017.
June - James was selected as a model for the Alabama Fashion Alliance. This changed the trajectory of the entire rest of the year. So much to learn, but such an interesting industry. And he loves it.
And back to Colorado! It was hard - very hard - to come back that last time. And did I tell you we hiked the Manitou Incline? I only got 3/4 of the way up before the Littles mutinied, but James and John made it to the top. Also, we got lapped by an octogenarian who clearly runs it daily just because he can, but even that was encouraging.
July -- We tried Durian for the first time. Because how can you not?
And then Jacob's best bud came home and spent a week scrabbling about the rocks with us.
August -- *phew* This one was hard. (That's not me in the pictures - as far as I know, there are no photos of me doing this. But I did it!) For someone who has no depth perception, is uncoordinated and afraid of heights, this was a gigantic feat. Scouting is cool.
September -- James had his first runway show.
And his second...
October -- we were still out in the kayaks every chance we got this Summer. Er, and fall.
And James received the rank of Eagle Scout!
November -- there's been a lot of fiber art action going on, here. I love these little miniature felted critters that Em made.
A visit from friends from out West!
And a birthday outing! (Actually, a lot of the kids turned 18 this year. This has been bittersweet, but the excitement and anticipation win out because they are just. such. great. young men and women.)
December -- we made it. Full lap. Holy cow.
Here's to 2017 bringing us a time of learning, discernment, joy, growth, support (both given and received)...
Be encouraged!
~Dy
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