Footy Pajamas

Another rainy day. I have to admit, I do love the rain. For some reason I find it comforting. Nothing is better than curling up on the couch with a fuzzy, warm blanket on a quiet, rainy day with only a book to read or a few movies to watch. That just sounds like heaven. Of course, once you have children that heaven changes slightly. Suddenly, the fuzzy, warm blanket is sticky with last nights orange juice, the couch has been overrun with cracker crumbs, the quietness that afforded you a listen to the rain drops on the roof has been replaced with , “Mommy, will you play with me… Mommy, can I have a snack… Mommy, I need to poop,” and your new forced favorite movie has an annoying theme song you can’t get out of your head. Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot of joy in that too, but sometimes it sure would be nice to go back to simpler days.

I’m emotional today although I’m not 100% sure why. Perhaps it’s because I’m saying farewell to some things God has told me to release. Perhaps it’s because I’m embarking on some new, scary journeys God has led me to embrace. Both are very uncomfortable for me. And I don’t deal with change very well. If you don’t believe me all you have to do is ask my husband. He will tell you… a change in plans, however slight can really throw me for a loop. I’m stepping out in faith right now. I’m doing my best to follow Him with obedience. I don’t really “like” it, but He is changing my heart slowly but surely with every step I take toward Him.

I stopped at the super-store to get some milk just a little while ago. As I made my way through the store I walked passed the pajama department. My eyes fell upon a rack I just had to go take a closer look at: adult size footy pajamas. Oh man, I was excited!!! I looked through them and thought about how ridiculous I would look in a pair of these bad-boys… but I also thought about how comfortable they would be. I remembered that a friend of mine had bought a pair last year, and a matching pair for her daughter. I looked at the price… $24.99. I thought it was a bit much for such a silly thing I didn’t really need. Instead of buying them, I picked up my cell phone and called my friend to tell her I had thought of her and her footy pajamas. It made her laugh. Oh how it was good to hear her laugh. I think she was having a rough morning… and we just spoke briefly but profoundly… something about not knowing the answers to the questions we don’t yet know. And… how we put too much pressure on ourselves to know answers to questions we don’t yet know. We both completely understood in that moment, although I’m not sure what the heck we were actually talking about now. We said goodbye and promised to talk again soon.

As I grabbed my milk and headed to the checkout counter I realized the reason I had considered getting the footy pajamas was really simple. I was longing to feel like a child again. I was longing to feel warm, cozy, and curled up safely on my couch. I was longing for the weight of adulthood, responsibility and decisions to be lifted from my shoulders even if only for awhile. I stopped in my tracks and thought about getting those footy pajamas again. $24.99 wasn’t such a bad deal if I could re-claim my comfy-cozy infancy for a moment or two, right?

Then I heard a whisper in my head and realized, I didn’t need to buy a pair of footy pajamas to feel like a cozy, comfy, protected child. All I had to do is ask God if I could nestle in with Him for a little while. I felt Him wrap His loving arms around me and there I stood, the child I longed to be. I felt warm and comforted. The weight of not knowing the answers to questions I didn't yet know lifted in an instant. To further my comfort, God told me I will never be a grown up in His eyes. And He is the type of Father that will always make time for me no matter when or where, no matter what He is doing. Always. Period.

Right now, the house is very quiet… I can actually hear the ticking of the clock in the hallway. It’s nice. I need to go pick my son up from pre-school in 5 minutes. After that, the quietness will be gone but giggles and endless questions will fill the void. As mommy, it is my job to make sure my son feels comfy, cozy and protected. In addition, it is my hope that when he is all grown up, he will recall his mommy teaching him that God can bring him back to his “footy pajama” days... anytime... every time he needs a break.

Rolling Around with Regret

We have always made a big deal out of giving things we don’t use anymore away. I don’t believe in holding onto things for a rainy day, especially when we don’t have room at our house to store things we don’t “need.” I always ask myself this question: what are the chances someone else needs this item more than I do? Almost 100% of the time, the chances are pretty good the item needs to have a new home. If I really needed it… I wouldn’t be asking myself the question. A step beyond that is assessing the things I can give away that aren’t extras in my life. Those things are usually things I like and want but they are also things I know I don’t need. It can actually hurt to give up some of those things… but that’s what sacrifice is all about.

About every three months, we have a “clean out” day where we all go through our stuff and see what can go. Little Brett is part of that process. He is getting to the age where he fights it a little more than he used to but I think it is a good learning experience for him regardless. He will pick out the toys he doesn’t really play with anymore and we will talk about how another kid who doesn’t have much would really enjoy it. I let him bag his stuff up then we go to the mission and he gives them the bag. Most times, he is happy about it and feels good. He also sees that his mommy and daddy do the same thing… and we talk about it, so I think that makes a big difference too.

The other day Brett, who is four now, had a melt-down out of the blue. And it was the real thing… tears marking real sadness just flowed from him. At first I thought he was just “acting” but then I realized he was experiencing a brand new feeling he had never had before… it was the feeling of regret!

Right before this past Christmas, Brett had gathered some toys and books he was ready to give away. We ended up giving it to the man who helped us rake leaves one day (if you haven’t read that story – here’s the link:“The Stranger” scroll down a little.) One of the things Brett gave away that day was a Thomas the Train Whistle and Wheels Couch he had gotten for Christmas in 2008. To be honest, I was surprised he was willing to give it up because it was pretty cool. The truth of the matter was, it was too small for him. He is a very tall boy and it just wasn’t sturdy enough to hold him up. I think there was more frustration for him than joy when it came to trying to enjoy it. Anyway, he decided to give it away.

Fast forward to his melt-down the other day.., it had been 4 months since he gave his Thomas couch away and all of a sudden, he wanted it back. He asked me where it was and when I reminded him he had given it away, he simply couldn’t handle it. He asked when he was going to get it back… he said he didn’t mean to give it away “forever and ever.” This had NEVER happened before so I was a bit shocked. My heart began to ache for him as I saw how deeply saddened he was over this. I gently told him the truth of how it didn’t belong to him anymore and told him how nice he was to have given it to someone in need. Of course, that didn’t matter, he was flat out upset… inconsolable. I wanted to hug him but he wouldn’t let me. He cried and cried repeating, “I want my Thomas couch back” over and over. Man did that bring up memories for me!!!! I could so relate to this four year old mourning a decision he had made. Of course, four year olds don’t understand consequences… and I have to be honest, I’m not that much different than a four year old in ways. My alcoholic brain makes consequences difficult for me to comprehend (that’s why I have a sponsor who helps me figure that stuff out).

It was painful for me as a mother to watch this life lesson play out, not able to comfort my child’s painful regret. He cried, rolling around on the floor so sadly for almost 40 minutes… then finally, when he was ready and on his terms… asked me if I would hold him, which I did quickly. It took some time for him to “get over it” but he eventually did. He went on with his day seemingly happy until dinner time when we played our around the table game “Mad, Sad, Glad” where each of us tell one thing that made us feel each feeling that day. When it was his turn, he remembered the sadness of missing his Thomas Coach and the whole thing started over. It took about 20 minutes for him to ask for a hug that time and before long, he was back to normal again.

I guess that is how it is for me when I think about the things I regret doing or not doing. The gut-wrenching sadness is overwhelming and feels as though it will last forever but, of course, it passes eventually. Each time I am reminded of it after that, the pain lessens slightly. I don’t think God wants me to have regrets that last longer than that initial burst. I think God knows my heartache and has great compassion for me, just as I did as Brett’s mother watching him work through it. I think God is willing to do whatever it takes to make me feel better but I am just like Brett. I roll around on the floor not wanting to be comforted. I want my misery! Assuming there is someone still hanging around by the time I’ve had enough self-pity, I request a hug, but it’s on my terms.

To me, regrets are sort of like the unused stuff I let pile up around the house… if they aren’t fulfilling a need in my life, it’s time to let them go. One of my favorite 12 step sayings is this, “If you’ve got one foot in yesterday and one foot in tomorrow, you’re in the perfect position to crap all over your today.” To me, regrets are part of yesterday and have no place in my tomorrow so I have to make the choice to let God comfort me today, in His way, on His terms. His terms are so simple but I complicate them terribly… I believe His terms are… give it once and let it go. The cool thing about God is that unlike a mother who watches helplessly as her child agonizes, He can remove the pain part of regret if I let Him. The memories will remain, as a gentle reminder of what once was, but the pain that was once attached… can just flitter away. If it doesn’t, then the only one I have to blame is myself for not letting Him take it.

In closing, I believe God wants me to find rest and peace in Him. He gave His Son, to me, as a person in need. It hurt Him deeply to make that sacrifice because Jesus wasn’t just an extra chair sitting around the kingdom that God didn’t need anymore. I think by accepting God’s comfort on His terms, I am actually glorifying the sacrifice He made. When I come to Him and allow Him to lift my regret, comfort my pain and soothe my roll-around-on-the-floor restless pangs… He knows it was worth it. In short, I know without doubt that God will never want His “Thomas the Train Whistle and Wheels Couch” back, so I’m going to do my best not to waste the gift He gave me.

His Feet Don't Fit in the Boat

My son got a ton of toys for his birthday this year… I mean a TON!!! One of the presents I got him was a little figurine set, similar to Little People, but it was a Christian version. It was the “Jesus Walks on Water” set. It had a boat, Peter and of course, Jesus.

I smiled when he opened it because he knew right away who it was… he said, “I got Jesus for my birthday!” with great expression and excitement. I felt so proud that I had taught my son who Jesus was. I asked him if he would like me to tell him the story that went with it. I was sure my little angel whom I had obviously taught so well about respecting Jesus our Lord and Savior, would quickly kneel before me with doe eyes and say, “Yes mommy, please tell me the story!” But that’s not what happened. He tossed Peter, the boat and even Jesus aside and said, “No. Can I open another present?” (humbling dagger-in-the-heart moment). He didn’t even ask who gave it to him.

Later, he was playing with the figurines, trying to get Jesus to fit inside the small boat, but his feet were too big. The only one that fit in the boat was Peter. Brett came to me troubled.

Brett said, “Mommy, why doesn’t Jesus fit in the boat?”

AH HA!!!! This was my chance! I said, “Peter is supposed to be in the boat. Why don’t we sit down and I’ll tell you the story, then you will understand.”

He looked up at me and said, “Nope. I don’t want you to tell me the story,” then quickly ran off, leaving Jesus on the kitchen counter.

Agh… another humbling dagger-in-the-heart moment for mommy.

A little while later he was playing with the figurines again, still trying to make Jesus fit in the very same boat but, of course, he didn’t fit. He got frustrated and called for me. In a whiny, frustrated tone he said, “Why doesn’t Jesus fit in the boat?”

More humbled about my superior Jesus teaching skills, I said, “Jesus isn’t supposed to be in the boat, if you let me tell you the story, I think it will make sense.”

He rejected me a third time with the same whining, frustrated tone, “No, I don’t want to know the story.”

I finished our conversation about it with this, “Okay Brett, when you’re ready to hear the story, let me know… and… stop whining please.”

While making Brett’s specially ordered birthday dinner, tacos and broccoli, it occurred to me that many of us Christians do the very same thing my son had done. We view our Christianity sort of like a toy. It is one of many gifts we have been given yet we don’t ever really think about who it was that gave it to us. We get it out every once in awhile (every week or two) to tinker with it then about an hour later when we’ve lost interest, we put it back in the toy closet. In addition, it looks kind of cool on the outside and we sort of have an idea what it’s all about, but when it gets down to the nitty-gritty of finding out the real story, we slough it off thinking that part is bound to be boring and too much work. We leave it on the shelf satisfied with just knowing what we think we know about it. “Jesus, yeah he was a cool dude with sandals. He had some disciples and he died on a cross. I get presents on his birthday… a bonus.”

Okay, so that may have been a little harsh but you get the picture (BTW, if you’re offended by what you just read, you might need to take a closer look at your own relationship with Jesus – in my experience when I get offended it’s because things hit too close to home).

Because of this attitude, I think we humans tend to try to live segmented lives. We have our holy, Christian life (the one we put on when we go to church for that hour a week or two, then pull it out of the closet for special church events). In that life we are kind and gentle. We don’t drink booze or smoke cigarettes. We carry our Bibles proudly, even if the only time we ever open it is when we flip it quickly to see which page it lands on hoping that will be the answer to our pressing problem. We don’t admit to the awesome rated R movie we saw the night before that was filled with nudity and violence. We don’t talk about how we got put on probation at our job because we cursed out a client (who happened to deserved it). We neglect the fear that our 16 year old daughter might be pregnant or using cocaine because if we don’t think about it, it won’t be true… and oh my, if someone knew… what kind of parent… what kind of Christian would they think I am?

We manage to keep our Christian lives and secular lives completely separate, even if we don’t realize it. At work, we would never tell the boss the reason we can’t come to the company party is that we have Bible Study that night. When the water-cooler talk gets ugly about how the married head of accounting and the IT manager are “getting it on”, we find it easier to throw in our own comments than to ask ourselves, “What would Jesus say?” in this situation. When our kid’s teacher tells us little Johnny was cheating on a test, we defend him and blame the school system for failing. After all, if the teacher had done her job, Johnny wouldn’t need to cheat. This blame game is done in an effort to not admit to ourselves that perhaps we haven’t been involved enough in Johnny’s life lately. When the guy in the red corvette (that we secretly covet) cuts us off in traffic, we quickly flip him the finger that says it all instead of saying a quick arrow prayer of grace and protection for him.

I passionately believe God really wants us to find a way to combine our two lives into one. Many of us may have grown up in a church that taught us we must be ashamed of our sins and problems. We must repent and keep them quiet for God is to be greatly feared! Others of us may have grown up watching Christians play out these two very different lives and called out “HYPOCRITE!” Determined never to be one of “those people,” they consciously choose the secular life because it’s fun and there is no need for guilt. There are so many levels in between that I can’t even fathom it… but that doesn’t change my passion for wanting to draw these two very different lives together and make them one.

While I do feel I am pretty good at living a blended Christian/secular life, I will also be the first one to admit that the type of life I have makes that rather easy. I work from home, we are financially sound, I have a very well-behaved child (and husband) and my connection with God has already been worked on a lot. If I were out in the corporate America working world, struggling to make ends meet, and having battles with my child/spouse or fighting just to survive, I’m not sure I’d do a very good job at it. But I do know what all of that is like. I was once poor, homeless, lonely, troubled, drunk, broke and even after I was married and had security, my life felt empty and desperate. I wasn’t living a God-centered life then though… coincidence???? Even though life is comfortable now, I do have my troubles. I face monsters such as fear, uncertainty and anger everyday. When I call on God, he reassures my soul. The King James Bible refers to the Holy Spirit as “the Comforter.” In my life, that is exactly what He is.

I have a lot of respect for those who are out there in the world, facing the super tough stuff of life like bastard bosses, sinister co-workers, unemployment, terrible debt and unfaithful spouses. I’m sure it can’t be easy to bond the Christian and the “regular” life together as one. But hear this, every Christian…. every single one of us… is just a regular person. Having troubles is more of a reason to embrace Christianity. The reason we are Christian is because our lives are such a mess! Not one of us is perfect, without problems or issues. It’s okay for God’s children to watch R rated movies or to have a late night at the bar complete with a hangover. It’s okay for God’s children to have trouble at work or with their teenage daughter. Guess what… it’s expected!!! God deeply desires for us to find comfort in His loving arms. In addition, as God’s children we should be able to find support, relief and answers to our problems in our church community. If we don’t find that true in our lives, if we feel we need to hide our realness from our Christian life… then maybe it’s time to change the way we think about church or… perhaps it’s time to find a church that better fits our needs.

I urge you to make a step, even if it is a small one, in trying to bond your secular world with your Christian world. Take your Jesus figurine out of the toy bin and ask someone to tell you the story…it’s okay if you’re a Christian and you don’t know it. In fact I dare say that the majority of people who call themselves Christian do not know the full story but they are afraid to admit it. Admitting that might make them look like weak Christians… while in reality it’s the fear and the lack of action that may turn their Christianity southbound. If that’s you, take a leap of faith and ask for the story. I guarantee, someone like me is dying to share it with you! And trust me, I need the practice. One of these days, my son is bound to ask me the real reason Jesus’ feet don’t fit in the boat!