Monday, June 29, 2020

Graduation Day

                                                                                         
   
      I remember when I became a parent I was confident. I was confident I was ready. I was 24 years-old. On maternity leave from a preschool teaching position, I was sure I had it all under wraps. The nursery in our little home was painted baby blue with little stars on the ceiling. Tiny clothes were folded with care and put into the refurbished dresser I painted to match the theme Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. 

         Then in the middle of the night on a Sunday morning my water broke. No more prepping for this baby boy, he was coming. I remember the excitement that I felt as we drove to the hospital before the labor became intense.  I didn't appreciate the nursing students that were invited into the room as I roared through the contractions. In the arms of the doctor his angry cry filled the room as he peed on the doctors shoes, a detail Isaiah would boast about later. 

I loved him instantly.  

          I hoped he would always be strong like he was in his first moments in this world. It must have felt bewildering to be pushed into bright light and cold air and loud voices. But when they gave him to me I cried. His tiny fist clutched instantly around my finger, he was mine.

          Four years later I held his hand as we entered the narrow hall toward his Preschool classroom. I had to let go to hang up his tiny backpack on the hook by his name printed neatly above his cubby. The teacher waited for us with a warm smile. I smiled down at him knowing tears threatened to appear. For a moment he struggled. Beyond his teacher the room was full of wonderful things and other children coloring, playing with plastic kitchen food, and handling puppets. He took in one more hug before he slowly joined the rest of the kids. I remember leaving that day sadly wondering where four years had gone.  

         Our home has never been quiet. After Isaiah, Elaina and Lydia came quickly. Isaiah was a good student. He knew his ABC's before the first day of preschool, in fact he could already read. We knew he was bright but also shy. We hoped he would fit in.

        How did the years fall like leaves on an autumn day? How did my my little brown haired boy grow up so quickly? I have a hard time writing about this present moment. Again he is standing at the door. Life is standing before my boy welcoming him to leave the nest I have worked hard to create these past eighteen years. As he puts on his graduation gown I smile bravely. He made it to this important milestone and I know from this point on I have to let go so that he can find his wings to fly.

       Any parent  reading this right now knows that this process though crucially important is also very difficult. I look up at his face and his slender frame towering above me at 6 Feet tall. His hugs are a precious gift though a little awkward now. I cherish the, Mom I love you I hear from his deepening voice.

        There is a pain in my heart. As the sense of the past 18 years surges through my memory bank. I sit in the stands in the high school gym. The air filled with the smell of hairspray, perfume, and hand sanitizer. As the families spread out keeping social distance we silently watch our sons and daughters file into the room to take their seats. Because of the pandemic of COVID 19 I didn't have to face this moment quite as early as normal. I am thankful for the last few months. I am thankful for the long conversations into the night.

         As a parent I am not as confident as I thought I would be. I realize that faith has played a huge part in raising this son. How I have hoped to get it right, and I pray for grace to cover the areas I got wrong. 

        As the Principle announces my first born's name I watch as he walks across the platform. The diploma is placed in his hand. For a moment I think back to the anticipation I felt on the night before his birth. Standing in his nursery. I remember how confident I had been before this adventure was born. 

      Now I hold my hands out to God and I release this boy. I pray, Lord watch over this precious son you have given me. I know he will now have to start his own journey in this world. And though tears are pressing I am confident that he will find his way. 


          
       
          

Friday, June 12, 2020

Happy Birthday to Me

                                                                             
    
 It is early. The alarm went off but my eyes didn't want to open. Then I remembered, today is my birthday. I am getting up early to enjoy the whole day. The sun is shining through the drawn curtains as the moving shadow of the near by wind turbine reminds me that I live on a farm. 

      I never thought I would live on a farm. I never thought I would marry a Pastor. I never thought I would be able to do all the things I have done or traveled outside the country to South America, Africa, and India. I never thought I would have four children. In fact, I never thought through what my adult years would look like, but here I am, turning 43 years old today.

     I don't like that number. Ever since I turned Forty I hear the whispers of "over the hill." These words come from inside more than outside, although my teenagers definitely feed this insecurity. As I look in the mirror I see the lines that life has forced into appearance. But I also see the wisdom that has grown through living and learning.

    I don't speed down the country highway by my house anymore, because though it is scenic I still got pulled over going 80 in a 55. When the officer asked me why I was going so fast I stammered out an explanation.  But to be honest, it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon so I floored it. 

Oops!

   I am presently in the season of teenagers. A time when I am learning to choose my words carefully. A season spent on my knees interceding for my three almost grown. 

   So what do we do when time keeps going and life is demanding?

   For some reason when I ask this question I think of my grandmother, on my Father's side, Grandma Tullis. In her golden years we would sit in her front room together. Sometimes our conversation centered around her purplish-blue Morning Glories. Sometimes she would talk about the poems she wrote after her early morning walks. Her favorite topic to discuss by far though, in her own words, The Lord. 

    When I think of her I feel proud that she bought a piano in her Fifties so she could learn how to play hymns. I remember gathering in the living room as a family to hear her play. Afterward my cousin and I would sit on the piano bench together to tinker around on the ivory keys. Her piano is now in my basement, it is one of my treasures. I still run my finger across the metal sticker on the lid that says Jesus is Lord thinking of grandma.
     
      I vividly remember the pew the whole Tullis family sat on at the Baptist church every Sunday.  It was hard to sit quietly in my Sunday best. But as she looked down the pew at all of us, I knew she was proud to have us there. She came to know Jesus as her Savior later in life, and she was never entirely free of the rough edges, and neither am I. But she loved her God and as we sat talking together her love for Jesus spilled out.

    Some how as I get older I see her in the mirror. I see the optimistic attitude to keep trying new things. To keep noticing the little things. One of her favorites was to spot cardinals on her early morning walks. Thinking of her reminds me of the happy ring of her laughter, when my dad told a funny story.  I see her warm smile encouraging me, "Dianne you pray so beautifully. "

    When I was 20 I could never picture being 43. That would be out in the future, somewhere after marriage and children, but I have arrived.  
    
    And in this moment I realize the most important thing I have learned, I learned from Arlene Tullis, Love the Lord. So I have, and oh the adventures I have been on. As a twenty year-old I looked at life fearfully wondering if I could actually live life bravely. But through my faith in Jesus Christ I have been amazed at the courage He has given me.

    So today as I face another milestone I am excited to embrace 43. I know that God is with me and life with Him is an exciting pursuit. 
    
   Friends I know it is hard not to battle fear at this time in our country, but there is Hope. My grandmother found her Faith in her Fifties, and she passed it down to the next generation. It is my prayer that I too am passing it down to my children. 

 Thank you Grandma Tullis for your faith, it has meant the world to me. 
    
  So when time keeps going and life is demanding I encourage myself and I encourage you, don't give up. Dig deep to find Faith and don't ever stop trying and looking for the little wonders in life.

Happy Birthday to me.