Love Who You Love

Let love give what it gives. Show love, be love, give love.

Memorial Day weekend was all about this and it was one of the best weekends I have had in a long, long while. Who did I spend it with? The majority of it was spent with the kids. We chased dogs around the neighborhood, we picked weeds, went to the plant store and picked out flowers, we dug the holes, planted the flowers, and watered them. Shortly after I swept up the mess and used the leaf blower to clear the sidewalk, we each grabbed a popsicle and sat at the top of the driveway and looked at the new, beautiful front garden. It was a beautiful moment. Just the three of us, proud of our accomplishments.

Tony helped me mow the lawn, gather the branches for the bonfire and shop for the s'mores fixings. Paige set up the lawn chairs around the bonfire pit, figured out a couple games we could play before cooking the s'mores and thought up a couple of ghost stories. At one point, I overheard Tony saying to Paige, "This has been hard work. We're making Mommy proud." And Paige's answer was, "It sure is. Help me get these chairs apart." And Tony said, "Okay Paigey."

The entire weekend was like this. We worked hard together, enjoyed our time, and when I required that they nap or rest, they abided by my wishes. After the nap on Friday afternoon, Paige stretched her arms high into the air and said, "Ah, refreshing!" I laughed and said, "I told you so."

Yesterday was supposed to be our quiet, restful day. When I got invited to a party at a friend's house, I was a bit reluctant to go because I knew the kids had played hard all weekend and I was waiting for the meltdown. I packed them into the truck, figuring I'd leave in an hour or so. At the party, they played together, they played with the other kids, they said please and thank-you, they hugged me, and all I heard was, "You're kids are so well-behaved." Ha! But they were.

It was because of all the love. We were sweating it, talking it, showing it, being it and giving it.

Ah, refreshing!

Accountability

As a mother, I am required to look beyond my own selfish needs and become as selfless as I possibly can. This explains why I was willing to work through my marriage problems with my ex. Simply because I know that we all make mistakes as human beings, and knowing that forgiveness and change forward does wonders. I was really looking beyond my own hurt, and into the future of my children.

I am one of the fortunate ones though. My marriage ended, the family broke apart but in all this time, through my own hurt and pain, I concentrated on the needs of my kids. How easy it would have been for me to pack up my bags and move to a different state - away from the pain, away from the routine and start something brand new. I thought about it. I asked God for guidance. I prayed for guidance. I read books about child-rearing and what was the most important thing for the kids. Stability. I read so many books, talked to so many counselors, priests and friends. In all of this, the only requirement for the healthy child-rearing was show them love and give them stability.

I scraped up money for the plane tickets and went back to Buffalo every chance I got. If they needed love, they got it in bucket-fulls. I am still scraping money and plan on spending every vacation in Buffalo so that my kids can be a huge part of my family. It would have been easier on me if I would have just sold the house in Maryland and moved back to Buffalo. I could have done that easily. In fact, I talked to my ex last week about this and he said, "Thank you for not doing that, Carrie. The kids need their dad." I answered, "Yes, but they also need my family." And he said, "Absolutely, which is why I never fight you on your trips up north." And for that, I thanked him. He's got that figured out, and knows the benefit of a loving family, despite our divorce.

Stability. So, that ruined my whole plan of packing up and leaving town. I am a mother and so, I am required to look beyond my own selfish needs. But then I thought about my kids.

My only role in this life now that I have given birth is to be the damn best mother I can be. That is my role in life. That is what God called me to do. He didn't come to me in a dream, and I didn't hear his voice... I just know on the day that my daughter's head appeared and I heard her first cry, that I had a purpose and that I was accountable for her well-being. And then Tony followed, and I was divided by two, and grew ever so strong.

As anyone who has read my blog for the past two years knows, I am a believer in God. I have so many strong beliefs about God's purpose for me, and when I can say kind words to heal someone's hurt, I try to do that. When I say mean things because of the hurt I feel inside, I always ask for forgiveness. When I think about myself for too long, I've come to this understanding with God that He can put me in my place - which usually means that I stand up too quickly while emptying the dishwasher in my rage and crack my head on the open cabinet door, or I hit my hip on a table as I walk past without thinking. I usually hear something like: "Tone it down a notch, Carrie." I doubt it's God's actual voice, I think that it is probably just my own voice reminding me of what I believe: Do unto others as you'd have done to you. This is my rule for my life! And these are the words of God - my God, my ex's God, my enemy's God, my family's God...

I am accountable to myself and my children to listen to what others have to say. I am required to open my ears and listen. I ask all of you to do the same.

Thanks to a fellow blog writer for posting the following. It came at the perfect time:


Wednesday, October 03, 2007
When did God become an Excuse?

So, When did God become an excuse for doing what you want? Anyone who's worked in ministry or pays attention to news about people and religion know what I mean by this statement. It seems a lot in the past few years that people in religious leadership like to use God as an excuse to do whatever they want. They say things like "We're going to do this b/c we prayed about it," or something like " This s what God wants." These statements have been used to rationalize some of the most horrible things in history. I saw a news article recently talking about a so called "pastor" who thought it was ok for a father to marry his adolescent daughter because it was part of their religion. Holy Crap, what's up with that? How can God be used to say this is ok? Because God's become the excuse. Recently I was fired from a Job where I was excelling at that job. I was fired b/c they "prayed" about it first.

How can we stop this flagrant misuse of a Holy God? It's called accountability. This kind of thing occurs in places where we give one person way to much authority. When did God ever put a single person up on a pedestal? He didn't! The only person He ever gave major authority was Himself in human form, known as Jesus Christ. If the leadership was accountable to people who walk with God daily, then less little problems like this will arise. Where people stop, think, and talk, ideas outside that of God's word start to become evident.

PLEASE for the love of God, stop using God as an excuse. Why do we feel the need to say that God has said something that you know He didn't? I think it's because no one can argue. The people that say these things know that God isn't going to just come down and confront you in public over the stupid thing you just said that He said. It's only an amount of time before you'll have to answer for what you've said. In this life or the next you'll answer for it.

Start actually praying, looking for God's leading, and do that. Regardless of what God's leading is, do that! You've got to be ready to do thing you don't want to if you're going to do God's will. It's not always the easy thing, but it's always the right thing. The right thing also isn't always what we want. Remember that the next time you're going to want to do something just because it's convenient or want to get rid of someone because you're jealous. Remember that it may not be what God wants just because you want it.

What God wants is perfect. Why do we think that just because we want it that God will in turn want it as well? How selfish our sin must be.

Now we must wait for change...God Rocks!! Jtw

Divorce Just Took Third Place

I dye my gray roots because it makes me feel good.

I go to Springsteen concerts because I love it.

I read books because I enjoy it so much.

I write because it helps me think and makes me feel better.

I go to acupuncture because it keeps me balanced.

I plant my vegetable garden so that I can enjoy the tomato juice running down to my elbows as I take half the sandwich into my mouth in one bite; and because my kids like tomatoes too.

I exercise because I want to feel healthy and be healthy.

But,

I live in Maryland for my kids, weighing the negatives of moving them away from their father and how it will affect them and their future.

I go to work every day, for my kids.

I get up every morning, make breakfast, lunch, dinner and give baths, for my kids.

I read childrens' stories every night to my kids, for my kids.

I sit down and draw, and do play-doh, puzzles and games with my kids, for my kids.

I say prayers every night with my kids, for my kids.

I take my kids to church every Sunday, for my kids.

I talk about my brothers, sister, my ex, my ex in-laws, mother, father, in-laws, cousins, nieces and nephews, telling stories and doling out compliments, for my kids.

I come home from work after working ten hours and put on a pot of sauce, letting my kids put in all the spices, stir the sauce and eat it off the spoon, for my kids.

I speak kindly to others because it's the right thing to do, and to teach my kids.

This is what mothers do. When a mother puts herself before her kids, she isn't being a mother, she is just being a person with kids.

If I wasn't a mother, and since I'm no longer married, I could do whatever I wanted. I could make any decision for the path of my life without a second thought. But I have kids. And so I don't, because they are the most important job in my life. A job I wouldn't trade for the world.

I am sick of trying to define miracles from the shit sandwich on my plate. I am sick of trying to find good in all this jumbled mess. The miracles aren't to be found in the circumstances. The miracles are to be found beyond the circumstances... looking up through the fog of the grief and seeing the beauty of a sunrise. That's the miracle. It doesn't come forth on a plate, it doesn't require the belief that you'll sit on a throne next to Jesus, bejeweled in Glory. It comes from the simple act of loving and kindness and seeing; taking into consideration how all the sacrifices, all the decisions, all the moves one makes in their life will affect the whole chemistry of the universe.

If that means sitting complacent for a while and watching my kids grow up healthy in mind and spirit, well, then I suppose they'll be my sunrise after a long life of pointing out the beauty, despite the fog.

And I'll continue to do this, for my kids.

On Faith

I am a weak person, I've decided. Not weak in the sense that I know what is essentially right and wrong for my kids, but weak in the sense that I am so very cautious.

Think about the move my ex has made for a second. He was unhappy. He didn't see any chance of the marriage getting better, so he fled. He's gone, and maybe (hopefully, in my self-centered heart, hopefully), he has felt regret. But even so, he has moved on.

Here Carrie is, sitting complacently. I'm still in the same place. Raising the kids, working, cooking, cleaning. Have I been on dates? Very few. Have I given in to the temptation to "make myself available?" - nope. I haven't even been writing that much. I haven't done that because I am so afraid. So weak. Was his move strong? In a sense, yes. He was unhappy so he moved on. I was unhappy and was willing to sit inside of it.

Adventure.

It requires faith. I am too weak to push forward to do what I want to do as an individual. I am not strong enough - yet - to move forward and tow my kids along for the ride. They'd adjust. Hell, they adjusted to the divorce, didn't they?

It has been nearly two years for them since he left. They've adjusted just fine. It is their mother that hasn't.

I got news today of a move made by a lovely person. What did I do? I lashed out. How dare she? How dare she?

Am I right in my opinion?

Hell no! I am weak in my ability to move through transitions, and I am jealous, no, envious, of those who can.

Cheers to the brave ones. I'm not there yet. With a little faith, in myself, I just might be. But not yet.

It's only been two years...

What a joke I've become.

Who You Gonna Call?

When I'm at my worst - sad, heart-broken, desperate, dismal, hopeless - I sure feel lousy. I feel so lousy that I don't want to lift my head from the pillow. I feel so lousy that nothing seems possible, that giving up seems to be the solution of strength. The clinging, wanting, yearning for meaning is unbelievable.

Thankfully, I haven't felt that way in quite awhile. Don't get me wrong, I feel pangs of it, especially since... especially since... well, you know. But the pangs are usually fleeting, lasting an hour, maybe two hours at most and usually it's not every day.

I ask you, dear readers, to imagine those people who feel that despair every hour of every day. To even think that it might last longer than two days is difficult to imagine.

Where is the faith?
Where is the hope?
Where is the friendship?
Where is the love?

If you know someone that might be feeling this way, pick up the phone and make the call.

That's our duty as fellow human beings.

And please, don't imagine what it's like for too long. Compassion can only bring you to the place of understanding; any further, and you're sunk too.

I don't know why I write this... only to say, there is hope. There is faith. There is friendship. There is love. It's out there. If you're feeling like the person I described in the first paragraph: pick up the phone, make the call. There are people who will listen.

8 Hours Sleeping, 16 Hours Dreaming

I had a rough time waking up today. The kids' voices seemed a little more high-pitched, the pat-a-tat-tatting of Gracie's ears a little louder, and my eyes seemed a little bit heavier. I slept so soundly all night, just enough chill in the air to compel me to roll over again and pull the covers up to my chin. Why was I so tired?

I realized that, for the first time in months, the exhaustion didn't come from dreading the day. It didn't come from that little place of despair inside of me that spoke about the tragedy of the past few months. It didn't come from disliking work, dreading making lunches again. It came from none of that.

I was exhausted this morning because I earned it. I stayed out until 1am on Monday, woke at 6am, worked a full day, and after work, cleared out the weeds in my front garden and trimmed all the plants while entertaining the kids, speaking with the neighbors and throwing a stick to Gracie, Rocky and Murphy (the neighbors' dogs, who adore my house as much as they adore their own). I was physically and mentally worn down, but spiritually peaking.

So when Tony came in this morning, rubbing my back (as I taught them to do upon waking someone) and said, "Why are you sleeping so much?", my reaction was to smile. I smiled because it was the first morning in a long line of mornings that didn't give me the thought that I had to shut out the pain again. The pain is there, it will always be there. But I only have one life to live, and live it I must, and be as grateful for the chill in the air on a Wednesday morning, and be grateful that I have the long weekend (Fri-Mon) to spend outside with the kids, the dogs, the plants, the sunshine and the stereo blasting some great flippin' music. And I hope to wake up exhausted like this all weekend.

I Believe in the Promised Land

My soul has been replenished, nourished, charged up and is running like velvet across my fingertips. I had been waiting on a sunny day, and for three and a half hours, my face was lifted toward the brilliant light.

First, church on Sunday. Second, the gospel according to Bruce. The concert was worth every penny. In fact, I think Bruce might have lost money on the deal because it was simply, phenomenal.

I lived a lifetime in that arena. Any concert that begins with a song containing the words: "I dont give a damn for the same old played out scenes. I don't give a damn for just the in-betweens. Honey I want the heart, I want the soul, I want control right now," is going to be good. He followed it up with "No Surrender" and I thought of the street I grew up on, and my brothers' best friends, especially Pops: "We swore blood brothers against the wind. Now I'm ready to grow young again
and hear your sister's voice calling us home, across the open yards..."

And the songs continued on and on and on and on... this was a concert about hope and faith and love; and of course, rock and roll. Bruce sat on the stage with a nine year old girl and sang "Out in the Street" - a version that the little girl had never heard because she loved the Jonas Brothers version of it. PULEEZE. That little girl has no idea how lucky she is.

But I know how lucky I am. I ended up getting seats with five, Bruce-loving, friends. Someone backed out at the last minute. Fortuitous? Serendipitous? I had just realized Bruce was in town the day before yesterday, decided I was going, and then got the phone call from a long-time friend of mine telling me they had one extra ticket. "Do you want it?" Uh, duh.

The entire concert was an encore. And the encore was a concert. Easily, the best show I've seen by Bruce yet. And here's the song that spoke to me the most, I think. Maybe it was because Bruce sang it with such a passion, speaking to the group as a whole, but to each of us individually too.

Hard Times (Eastmountainsouth, 1850)

Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
while we all sup sorrow with the poor
there's a song that will linger forever in our ears
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a song… a sigh of the weary
hard times… hard times come again no more
many days you have lingered around my cabin door
oh… hard times come again no more

while we seek mirth and beauty
and music light and gay
there are frail ones fainting at the door
though their voices are silent
their pleading looks will say
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a song… a sigh of the weary
hard times... hard times come again no more
many days you have lingered around my cabin door
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave
'tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
'tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a song…a sigh of the weary
hard times… hard times come again no more
many days you have lingered around my cabin door
oh, hard times come again no more
oh, hard times come again no more