When I was a Child...6-24-11

When I was a Child...

...I thought like a child and I dreamed like a child. I had an imagination that could rival most screenwriters. I can still remember the day that "pretending" became difficult. It is as though I knew that from that day forward my life would change. I tried to push through the difficulty of pretending and still "play," but it was over. The magic had passed. And I knew it. 
Perhaps that is why I so enjoy watching my children pretend. I often sneak into the hallway where they can't see me and listen to Noah as he flies his plane or fights monsters, or as Landon sets up yet another battle scene and ninja fights his way to victory. Once in a great while, when I play with them I can almost re-enter that land of make believe. Almost. But reality is always there to crowd it out.
For as much I wanted to grow up when I was a child, I now sometimes wish I could go back. Isn't it always that way? We rush through every stage of life, wishing for the next, only to long for the past once we get there. I don't want to do that anymore. I want to cherish each day. I see how fast this stage of life is going. I snap so many pictures and take videos around every corner, but I can't make time stop anymore than I can go back to believing I am Laura Ingalls in my log cabin in the Big Woods. 
These three boys I have been given...they are so precious. Every night when I kiss Noah goodnight, and smooth his wild red hair, I take in his cherub like face and I try to memorize every detail. And every day, all day, I am constantly smelling Everett's peach fuzzy head and trying with everything in me (its not difficult) to win yet another of his open mouth big beautiful smiles. And I am continuously amazed by Landon...how he is changing and growing into a little man. I can see remnants of my baby Landon, but the boy is quickly becoming a young man, and a great one at that.
Life is busy, and stressful, and sometimes difficult. I fight constantly to make daily choices that keep my priorities where they should be...where I want them to be. In so doing, I am finding less and less time for some things (like blogging and social networking). I miss blogging. I miss the interaction and the outlet that blogging once was. But for right now, its been set on the back burner, in the hopes that I have more time to play Legos with my kids, go to the beach on sunny summery days, and dance wildly around the living room while jamming to Kidz Praise, to keep my house in order and my emotions in check, to be what my clients deserve and my students expect and my family needs. And to work on my own heart. Remember that journey I mentioned I was on last fall? I'm still on it. I don't have answers and I don't want cliches and catchy Christian phrases. I want PRACTICAL truth. I want to understand. I want the faith to accept that which I don't understand. When someone sits across the table from me and shares the most horrific story I have ever heard, and crosses their arms over their chest and looks me square in the eye and says, "Where was God in THAT, Kristen?" I want to meet them there with the practical and tangible Love. 
There aren't ten easy steps to anything. I wish there were. Ten steps to happiness, five steps to a great relationship, twenty steps to perfect parenthood, three steps to dealing with mental illness, nine steps to healthy self esteem. Good grief. If only it were that easy. Eight steps to dealing with tragedy and loss. Don't you wish it were that easy? The truth is, every one of our journey's are different. Every relationship varies. There are constant extraneous variables and wild cards. And ultimately, we don't hold the control. So we just do the best we can. We take responsibility for that which we have control over, do the best we can with what we have been given, and walk carefully across the ever blurred line between faith and knowing. But the details in between all of that can burn us out....spin our heads...make us throw our hands in the air...or fall on our face. All of which, in the world's eyes isnt necessarily a good thing...but I believe it is in this place that we can become more empathetic, more grace-filled, more loving and kind...more reliant on the One who is beyond our understanding. I believe in the questioning, we come to know Him more. So I don't fear the process...I just don't like it. I am not comfortable here. And so I keep reminding myself that I am assured that "In my weakness, I shall be made strong." 
Growing up, my brother had this adorable poster framed on his wall. On the poster was a little boy looking a bit defeated, with the words "God's Not Finished With me Yet" written next to him. That is true for each of us, as long as we still have breath. 
So I can't pretend it all away as I did when I was a child. But I can sort through it. I can learn to accept and change and grow and learn. I can say, that one day, there is going to be a story to tell. Not a story that brings glory to myself but one that Honors the Author of life. And if I never get to see the conclusion of the story, I pray that at the very least, those that know me best will say that I walked humbly, loved earnestly, chose obedience over desire, and ultimately did that which comes so very contrary to human nature..which is to put myself aside.