The Loss of a Friend

Originally posted 02/23/08, but edited to reflect present day:

Since joining various social online networks, I've had the best time finding people that probably thought I had forgotten them, or that more likely had forgotten me. I've found relatives I haven't seen in several years, friends I haven't seen in more than a decade and schoolmates that honestly, I can't remember their last name, but their faces do look vaguely familiar to me. Just to know that I can click on a friend's page and see what is happening in their lives or how their children are growing makes me feel like I'm 'virtually' involved in their lives again. There are just some people that I will never forget and it's nice to stay in touch even if it's only 'virtually'. So I've been having a lot of fun searching for my peeps and sending out friend requests.

The weird part is I never considered some people wouldn't want to accept me as one of their 'friends'. Okay, maybe one or two I thought might not accept me because I wasn't the coolest kid back in high school and didn't run with the in crowd, but I wasn't exactly a reject either. Or at least I'm egocentric enough to think I wasn't. But to be rejected by someone I've known for years and have laughed with, that my kids have played with their kid(s), that I have gone to church with; well, to be honest it's a bit of shocker.

I'm stepping back to do some self-evaluation and I'm faced with some confusion. It's true, much has changed in my life over the last several years. When I married I somehow dropped the ball on some important friendships and realized later after my blissful newlywed months that I neglected some extremely special people. Particularly, a bridesmaid whose friendship was vital for me as a single. I still miss laughing with that friend and so often think about her. She's one of the few people I wasn't able to find (until recently ~ love you Silver!).

After college, I was the best letter writer and used so much postage on the massive mailouts to the friends I'd made there that I knew the postman on a first name basis, literally. I used to be so great at keeping in touch with friends and somehow once I married and had children my priorities completely shifted. Especially with the recurring physical battles my husband has faced in the last few years (www.nnff.com - look for his survivor story under Donnie Thibodaux), my focus has been primarily on my immediate family. But I'm trying to change the trend I created and although of course my husband and kiddos are still my priority, I'm working hard on attempting to be less selfish, more giving and being there as much as I possibly can for my friends even if only through emails or comments and occasional phone calls for the time being.

But the rejection or the act of not accepting me as a friend has really thrown me. I remember back in junior high, how excruciatingly painful it was that I wasn't 'popular'. I was not the IT girl, I did not have the latest greatest 80's wardrobe, (although I did have gorgeous hair thanks to my mom the greatest hairstylist I've ever known) and I was very much the shrinking violet - wallflower. Eventually there was a group of friends that I became a part of during those preteen years and somehow I suddenly belonged. We even called ourselves 'The Group'. There were 6 or 7 of us and we did everything together from hanging out in the halls, to sleepovers, to weekend mall excursions until one day the leader of our group decided I didn't quite fit anymore.

She was the most influential girl I knew at the time and when she passed me a note between classes I was thrilled. Until I opened it and read her kindly worded note that she didn't think we should hang out anymore because our group had become too crowded, but she would still say hi to me in the halls. I didn't know what I had done, or what I hadn't done. That memory still haunts me and even today I would genuinely love to know what triggered that note of non-acceptance and social ostracization. It's no surprise that years later as a young single my heart's desire was to serve as a junior high youth teacher at church. I well remembered what I had endured and wanted to make some kind of difference for kids in that potentially tormenting age bracket. Being rejected as a teenager was nearly the end of the world for me, or at least in my highly hormonal state I thought it was.

The non-acceptance of this particular friend request has my head spinning. I'm sure it's not meant to personally offend or hurt me and I'm not asking for a pity acceptance by writing this blog. And please understand too my words are not written in a ranting or raving tone. I only hope to sincerely convey my heart, imperfections and all. In the ministry world there are many challenges to deal with. After serving a ministry for a period of time, your heart becomes knit together and entwined with the people you work for, the people you work with and the people of the church. In many ways it's a marriage of sorts and parting is always awkward, no matter how smooth of a transition you attempt to make it. I haven't been through a divorce, but I can imagine the feelings of conflicting loyalties must be much the same.

A few years ago, we spent 5 years on staff as Music Pastors at a church in Arkansas. We fell in love with the people of the church from our first conversation with the Pastors. We wholeheartedly took on the vision of the church and did our very best to put 100% of ourselves into everything we put our hands to. When God spoke to us that our season there was over, we were hesitant to leave because of the relationships we had formed and the people we loved because to us, they had become our family. But when God speaks we've learned it is wise to listen and to obey, so despite our ties there we resigned. We left without a place to go and without a definite plan or road ahead of us except that God said to go and so we went.

Although leaving a ministry can be an uncomfortable transition on both parts: the ministry left and the minister that left, there is something that hopefully can be understood throughout the transition process. As Christians, we call each other the family of God, brothers and sisters in Christ. We, who hold the truth of God's word as life itself, don't take this bond lightly because that is God's literal word. He calls us His children, which makes us brothers and sisters. I guess that's what has me somewhat confused. If I believe that my friend believes as I do (and I do) then why wouldn't they accept me as a friend? If my friend is my sister or brother in Christ, then we are intrinsically, in-separately family. We forever will be connected. We will worship together, again.

And yet, they have chosen to reject me as a friend. I am not sure if there is something that I may have done that I don't even know that I did to hurt or offend this friend. But if I did, how will I know if I'm not told? How can you fix a wrong if you don't know what it is that you did wrong? I would rather know and ask your forgiveness and move forward to work with you in the kingdom whether we are in the same church, denomination, state or not, than to stand in confusion wondering what I did to be rejected as a friend when at the same time we are still, family. Maybe I'm making more out of this than it is; maybe I'm super analytical and hypersensitive. Maybe I'm being a silly emotional 36 year old little girl. Maybe. But still even to this day, a loss of a friend, just as when I was a preteen, is a devastating thing.

Retro-Blogging

I love to purge. It feels so good to get rid of things I don't use anymore. I use the rule of 'If it hasn't been worn or used in 6 months to 1 year, it's time to get rid of it'. The victims of my purging become designated to piles labeled in my mind as "Trash", "Goodwill", "Ebay" and yes, I admit it, "ReGifting"!

My closet has been savagely edited and now I've moved on to reading through my old rants and blogs and having some good laughs at my own expense. I am closing down my old blog on myspace and recycling a few of the posts that made me snort out loud, sniffle or remind me of a lesson I need to relearn. I'm knee deep reading and weeding through the past to determine what to keep and what to throw.

So to my invisible audience who I think I am talking to when most likely I am just entertaining and amusing myself: Please endure the retro-blogging over the next few days or weeks or however long it takes me to complete this purging process. Be sure to read the 'Hotdogs & Popsicle Sticks' post... oh, so, funny.

Hot Dogs & Popsicle Sticks

Originally blogged 10/05/07:

I have to say, when I thought about having children, some things just never crossed my mind... if you are easily disgusted by doting parents, then please read no further. And if gross things gross you out, really, you need to stop reading RIGHT NOW.

The longer I am a mother, the more I wonder what I was like as a child... where's mom when I need her?!? Here's the latest that my beautiful, lovely children have done:

My daughter Emmi has been potty training herself. Yes, I said, potty training HERSELF. We've been working on it quite a bit, but just mainly going through the motions without any results. A couple of weeks ago, she was 'playing potty' and called me to tell me she had gone poo-poo. So I went to check and expectantly looked in the potty for nothing, when to my surprise she really had done exactly as she said! We commenced to cleaning and as she stood up, she looked proudly in the potty, gasped loudly and said, "Oh momma! It looks like a beeeea-uuuu-tiful hot dog!!!" ~ I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life!

Not to leave out my son , Kellan just had his 5th birthday this past Monday and of course we took him to the Doctor for his 5th year check up. As the Doctor was examining him to make sure he was developing properly in the private area, he said "Oh, what are these popsicle sticks doing here?" My husband and I looked at each other in confusion and I whispered to him, 'Oh, he must be trying to be silly to make Kellan comfortable'. We laughed quietly, relaxed and the exam continued without further mention of popsicle sticks. After the exam we headed out to eat for dinner. Halfway through our meal, I glanced towards my son's plate to the left of me and I noticed about 8 popsicle sticks on the table... and then I put 2 and 2 together... my son had actually put popsicle sticks in his underwear!

Allright, so there it is.

Doggie Paddling

Originally blogged 04/05/06:

Remember when you were first starting to learn to swim? One of the first things you learned to do was to doggie paddle... you submerged yourself nearly completely, with just your head and shoulders barely above the water and you cupped your hands palm down at the water alternately, so that you stayed afloat and moved ever so slowly and slightly from point A to point B. It took a long time to get where you were going, and sometimes it didn't seem like you were moving at all, and it took a lot of effort to keep yourself from sinking down into the water again. You were breathless, you were tired, and you wondered if you'd ever get to where you wanted to go.

Last week my new boss asked me how things were going. I told her I was "doggie paddling", just trying to stay afloat and keep my head above water. Since then, I started thinking how much the concept of doggie paddling can relate to so many areas in life. I don't know about you, but there are some areas I have been doggie paddling in for a while now, desperately trying to get to my destination, feeling like I'm not moving or making any progress, barely able to keep my head above water, breathless, tired and wondering if I'll ever make it.

It's so easy to let life's distractions, worries and concerns overwhelm you to the point that you're struggling to keep yourself from going under. It's easy to make mistakes and it feels nearly impossible to fix them. Sometimes it can feel as if you are nearly drowning. You are stuck in the middle of the water, all alone, desperately trying to keep from sinking. And sometimes you can get so tired, so exhausted from all your effort to stay afloat, that you can't keep your head above the water, you can't quite catch your breath... it's as if you've reached the point of no return and there is no other way to go but down.

This is where I am so glad, so thankful, so blessed... because I have a God, a personal God, who is my best friend, my biggest encourager, my source of joy, my confidence and my strength. Every mistake that I make, He has forgiveness for. His strength makes up for my every weakness. Without Him I am nothing, and with Him I can do anything, be anything. When I've done all that I can do, I have used all my resources, I have doggie paddled until I can't doggie paddle anymore... He is there to rescue me. When I fail, He is there to lift me up and keep me from drowning. He breathes new life into me, and gives me strength to begin again. That's the kind of God that I have... the kind that will give everything He has to give me everything I need, whether I deserve it, or not.

This weekend is Easter weekend, a weekend that symbolizes the moment that God gave his only son to bear the weight of all our burdens, all our pains, all our grief’s and sorrows, all our failures. And as well it symbolizes Christ rising from the dead. His resurrection brings new life, renewal, healing, hope, forgiveness, peace and freedom.

And this is my prayer. I pray that this will be a weekend of renewal for you... where you are weak, you can find strength in Him; where you are wounded, you can find healing in Him; where you have failed, you can find forgiveness in Him. And if you are doggie paddling right now, I pray you will surrender to Him whatever it is you are holding onto and trying to make happen on your own. No matter what it is you've done, no matter what obstacle you're facing, He is there just waiting to lift you up and keep you from drowning. That's the kind of God He is...

Mother's Day, Then and Now

Below is a blog I wrote on Mother's Day 2006. My son was 3 1/2 years old at the time. My mom told me once that I would never know what true love was until I had a child of my own. I didn't understand what she meant then. But I learned.

May 14, 2006

Today my little boy Kellan made a card for me in Jr. Children's Church. It is red and shaped like a teapot and inside it has a little pocket with a poem printed on it that is holding a little tea bag. It's obvious that his teacher made it with the exception of one little crayon scribble from Kellan. When he gave it to me, he was so excited. He said, "Here Mommy! I have a paper for you! I made it for you mommy!" I looked at it and started crying. I have never been so proud. All he did was make a little scribble with a green crayon. Maybe he pressed the glue on the little pocket with the printed poem so it would stick to the card. And maybe he placed the mint tea bag in the pocket, but his little hands made it, just for me.

For 2 weeks now, I have really been missing my mom. I guess it's been building up for Mother's Day, and just about everything has been making me cry, remembering her. But what makes it even more special, is looking at her through new eyes as a mom of 2 little children. How many times did I make little cards for her that made her day? How many times did she stare at me for hours on end thinking how beautiful I was and how much she loved me? How many times did she want to squeeze me until I couldn't breathe because she couldn't get me close enough to her?

I remember going through her things after she passed and finding some of the cards I had made for her. I remember her staring at me, taking in my every word and movement that I made. I remember her always reaching out to embrace me at every chance that she had; and now I find myself doing the same to my own children. My love for them consumes me. I can't get enough of them, I can't love them enough, kiss them enough or hold them enough. I can't quit staring at them and I can't quit thinking about them.

It's overwhelming to think that my mother felt the same way about me. I'm so thankful that God allowed me to become a mother, because now I know how much I was loved, even when I didn't realize it.

Present Day

(May 10, 2009)

My mom has been gone for more than 6 years now. I still find myself wishing I could call her for recipes when I crave her split pea soup or her beef stew. There are moments when I'm exasperated or worried or amused by my children and I would love to ask her if I was like 'that' or how she handled 'this'. And there are nights that I dream about her so vividly that it's as if she is still with me. And although within the dream I know it's not reality, I still pursue the mirage and talk with her, laugh with her or cry with her because for those brief moments I can smell her favorite perfume, hear the timbre of her voice and touch her soft skin again.

I still grieve that my children are unable to spend time with her as they grow up. She would get such a kick out of my fireball Emmi and she would be so in awe of Kellan's gentle spirit. She would have taken them for weekends and adventures and she would have been their biggest fan. They would have gained so much from her love and wisdom and the strength that emanated from her.

Simply, I miss her. And I'm remembering her today with soft smiles, a few tears and an extremely grateful heart that I was blessed with such an amazing woman as my mother was. Thank you mom, for everything and I cannot wait to run into your arms again some day, exactly the way my babies run into my own today. Happy Mother's Day!

Simple Sunday.

Have you ever wanted or longed for one of those simple, uncluttered, uncomplicated days? A day without having to rush here and there to pick up more toothpaste or toilet paper? A day where you could just sit back and relax and enjoy the things that are, even in the midst of some things that aren’t? Today is a day like that. There are still things that need to be done and that I am going to do, but for right now I am selfishly settling in for a few moments of soaking in a simple Sunday.
I’m relaxing on my comfy bed, enjoying the extra layer of a quilt I bought in my college days. My husband is napping beside me and I can hear the voices of my 6 year old and 4 year old happily playing Barbies & Transformers in another room down the hall. The fan is whirring and my tummy is full and I am wearing my favorite comfy slippers that my sweetheart bought me for Christmas. Sounds perfect doesn’t it?
Of course I’m not going to mention the dirty dishes that are calling me from the kitchen, or the trash that needs throwing or the last few pieces of laundry that need to be neatly tucked into their drawers. No, I’m not going to think about my long to-do list or my shoes that I forgot to put in my closet last night. Right now, I’m just going to enjoy these simple pleasures and the perfect imperfections of today. I’m going to twirl my toes in a clockwise circle because its comforting in this moment… ahhhhh. A simple Sunday. What could be better?

25 Random Things

1.) I am seriously direction impaired.
2.) I have been waiting to get taller since Jr High School.
3.) I used to think unruly children simply needed discpline until I was blessed with my beautiful daughter Emelia... and now, I understand some children are extremely hard-headed.
4.) Years ago I accidentally ran over a sweet little rabbit hopping across the road... on Easter Sunday.
5.) I didn't know there were people that couldn't sing until I was in the 10th grade!
6.) I was and still am somewhat of an airhead.
7.) I LOVE to write!
8.) I miss my mom.
9.) Having children made my feet and my nose grow. Blah.
10.) I love 80s music and 80s movies (Goonies, Breakfast Club, etc).
11.) I am still so in love with my husband!
12.) I am a book nerd!
13.) The B-52s Rock the house! ... Love shack baby!
14.) If someones arm gets too close to my face I have a strong compulsion to bite them. (But I don't, ...um... usually!)
15.) The only bone I have ever broken was my right pinky toe.
16.) I have some white hairs. Eeek!
17.) I use exclamation points way too often!
18.) I am admittedly not the best driver.
19.) I never should have taught my daughter how to say 'for shizzle my bizzle!'.
20.) I used to think with cartoon sound effects on occasion. What, don't you? Doink, doink?
21.) I am naturally cluttersome. And it drives my sweet obsessive compulsive husband nuts.
22.) Fall is my absolute favorite time of the year!
23.) I am extremely obnoxious when I am playing cards.
24.) Last week Donnie said I talked in my sleep and actually said the words 'wascally wabbits'. He woke me up shaking the bed with his laughter.
25.) I might be the weirdest person I know.