(Oh, and a wee little bit about blogging)
Prologue: I had a jarring experience two weeks ago. It was, for me, a sort of spiritual September 11th—thoroughly unexpected and entirely unasked for—and yet it happened and I know it was God’s will.
Since then, I’ve been pretty quiet over here. It is hard to blog when you can’t say what you most need to…and yet I must, this time, keep some things in my heart.
And they are some very hard, very heavy things.
If you could say a prayer for me—for us, for my family—I would be ever grateful. Meanwhile, please know that while every day is a gift, you just never know what it might bring.
That is where our faith comes in.
That is when we really need it.
I. On Raising Boys
My oldest son—his blog name is Joe—and I were hanging out one June afternoon. For some reason, I got the song Cat’s in the Cradle stuck in my head and just had to start singing it out loud.
And then, because my version is in no way as good as the original and because I wanted to remember all the lyrics, I found it online and made Joe listen to it.
And then, because 1. I’m a mother; 2. I’m pregnant; and 3. I am prone to violent tsunamis of unexpected emotion…
I started to weep.
It made for a delightfully awkward moment with my teenage son.
He’s been gone for the past six days, by the way, at a Leadership Training Camp for Boy Scouts.
We dropped him off, my husband & George & I.
We dropped him off for a week and I didn’t cry!
(My husband had promised me lunch if I behaved.)
The most interesting—and significant—part of the opening ceremony was the way that they had the boys march off without us. “You’ll want to say your goodbyes in the pavilion,” they told us. “Before the ceremony starts. It’ll be your last chance.”
The kid turns 15 in a month. It won’t be long before he’s marching off for good.
II. And Watching Lost
So one of the things I’ve been working on this summer is trying to make every minute count. I love having everyone home with me! (Except, maybe, at breakfast clean-up time.) Yet it can be hard, as you know, when you have both teenagers and “littles” to spend as much time with everyone as you’d like and I confess to being a bit demanding when it comes to family time.
Okay, I’m a lot demanding.
Still, there are those moments that require big kids only—those hugely important “Let’s talk about life & growing up & stuff” moments that you (as a parent) try your best not to miss. Sometimes all you need is to be there…and if you’re lucky, your kids will come to you. More often than not—and I find this to be true with my sons, especially—you can help your cause if you’re doing something fun.
“Fun” as in fun for them, of course.
And to this end, my boys and I have been watching Lost.
III. And Baking a Banoffee Pie
It’s not a perfect series but it’s pretty darn close. Yes, there are scenes that I have to edit (Think Sawyer. Think Kate. Think Sawyer and Kate.) and yes, there are themes that are fairly mature. There are brawls (my boys love those) and bad choices; there is sin, and there is death.
But there is also honor and courage and friendship. There is love, and there’s redemption.
One scene in particular struck a chord with the mom in me. Charlie (a funny, kind-hearted guitarist from England) and Clare (a sweetly sincere and very pregnant Australian) are listing all the things that they miss from back home. “Banoffee pie,” Charlie says dreamily, and I thought, “Banoffee what?”
Because there are many ways into a young man’s heart, and if watching a really good series with my sons doesn’t do it…
Then I’m hoping that baking them a scrumptious pie will. 😉
Epilogue: It was hard for me to write this post because the longer I don’t write, the harder it gets. Should I even be blogging? My husband says yes. And yet…and yet…sometimes I don’t know. I do know that life can get crazy and hard, and writing it down helps me make sense of it.
Still. The stakes are so high when it comes to raising our kids and I pray that I’m not wasting my time or yours. I pray that, in the end and when it comes down to it…
This is where God wants me to be.