How Long Is Forever?

 

I know it sounds like a silly question; “How long is forever” but I have found myself pondering it lately.  The easy answer is; “Well, it’s forever” or at least “It’s a very long time”.  The reason I ask this question is because I believe we have no comprehension of how long forever is.  And because we don’t live forever we probably shouldn’t, but why do act as if we do?

We bought our house and moved in eight years ago.  I remember saying to my husband, “I can live here forever”.  Well, in the perspective of someone who grew up in the military and spent the first 20 years of her married life also in the military, 8 years in one place is a very long time…almost forever.  The bloom has worn off my “new” house, some repairs are needed, the carpet will need replacing soon, and I could use more space in a few places and less when I am cleaning.  There are changes I would really like to make because it turns out it isn’t perfect and I have even found myself wondering, just a tiny bit, if we should built a different house somewhere else. 

I’m thinking about some couples I know who promised each other that they will love them forever.  And I truly think they meant it when it was said, but apparently forever was much shorter than I thought.  Struggles come, angry words are said, and it seems too hard to put forth the effort anymore.  Maybe things haven’t turned out the way they thought it would, changes are needed, and more space is required, because it turns out that other person isn’t perfect.  So maybe it’s time to move on.  And often, oh too often, they do move on.

So let me use my house as the metaphor.  We haven’t had the opportunity to own many houses in our 31 years of marriage, moving all the time.  The house we live in is only the third we have “owned” (the bank really owned most of them) and it is the only new house we have ever owned…no previous owners.  So really we didn’t date much, so to speak.  The first time we looked at this house I knew it was ours…I loved it.  It seemed perfect in every way and getting it purchased went smoothly.  We were actually out of state for the closing and had family handle that for us.

Moving day came!  It was stressful and crazy, but putting all of our stuff, things precious and dear to us, in our new house felt so good.  Then we began to arrange things and decorate, buying window treatments and other accessories to make our house a home.  Of course the “builders white” walls had to go in favor of some color.  Pretty soon it wasn’t just a house it was our home and we were happy.

As some improvements were made we began to see many…shall we say blunders…that the builder made, but corrections were made (some big) and life was good.  But I began to see some flaws.  One room, our family room was awkward to furnish.  Our living room was a bit small to fit the piano.  The guest room was almost too small for the bed.  Most of the house is carpeted and I like hardwood floors.  I really like to cook and a gourmet kitchen would really be nice.  Oh no…is that a crack in the foundation?

Gradually I began to realize that my perfect little house wasn’t exactly perfect.   So what do I do…what do we do?  We could just put it on the market, sell it, and move on.  We could just walk away from it and give our attention somewhere else.    How about if we just spend as little time there as we can and try to ignore what is happening?  I could go on but I think you get the picture.

It seems to me this is how our world today is treating marriage.  We meet that right person and they seem perfect.  They meet all of our needs, look pretty good on the outside, and we just know that we could live with them forever.  We agree to marry them and tell them we will love them forever.  Things are wonderful at first, dare I say perfect.    But forever wasn’t as long as we first thought it would be.

He didn’t used to be that cranky, did he?  Is she going to be this moody every month?  He used to be so spontaneous and would often bring me flowers; now all I get is a burp…I guess a burp is spontaneous, but not very romantic.   She would dress up for our dates,  now it’s just sweat pants and does she always have to smell like the baby?  Does she always have to challenge me?  Why does he always think I am stupid?  He’s looking at other women…is our foundation cracking?  That isn’t the same body I married!

Is the metaphor making sense?    I know that a house is not a marriage.  One is far more important than the other.  But these days we seem so ready to give up on something if it doesn’t seem to be meeting our needs.  We aren’t willing to roll up our sleeves and do the hard things to bring about change, or to shore up the foundation.  We want to walk away, get a new one, or just ignore things hoping it will all go away.

I still love my home.  I realize that it isn’t perfect.  There are settlement cracks in a few places, I have become content with the things I can’t change and we are working on the things we can.  It will need some new paint soon, some pressure washing, some spackle, and maybe even some hardwood floors eventually.  I am pretty sure I won’t be around forever, but I plan on being in this house as long as I am able.

As for my marriage; it is a covenant before God.  A promise made to Him and to my beloved.   Difficult times have come and gone.  A few things rocked our foundation but it didn’t crack.  We need some fixing up now and then, but we will never be in the marked for a new one, nor will we ever walk away.   It is forever no matter how long that is.

I Work Them All

 I’ve been away for a while, too much to do and not enough time.  There have been way too many things I have wanted to blog about, but grabbing the minutes to actually sit down and write has been more than challenging.  And if I ever believe that my words are so much more important than the responsibilities that I have to care for…well then I should give this up!!

Spring came very early this year to South Carolina and it has been kind of weird.  But broccoli is growing in the garden and almost ready to be picked and many varieties of seeds are in the ground with great expectations of their promises.  Thus begins a busy season for me as summer approaches, but then every “season” is busy.  I like it that way!

Last week there was much in the news about a certain “talking head” remarking about a presidential candidate’s wife, a stay at home mom, and the presumed “fact” that she “hasn’t worked a day in her life.”  Yes, I know apologies were given and many weakly came to the defense of the candidate’s wife, but the fact that this was ever voiced in the first place is a sad statement on our world.

If you have read this blog, or know me at all, you know what I think about what society calls “Stay at home moms”.  I prefer to just call them moms, doing what they need to be doing.  And I am not going to make commentary on moms that actually need to work (i.e. not just so the family has a bigger house, newer cars, more stuff).  It is just so heartbreaking that women who choose to make their family their career are still treated so poorly.  Honestly, it makes me ashamed to call myself a female sometimes. 

Of all the choices I had 30 years ago (and there were many) I choose to put my family first and that became my “career” choice.  As I have written here before, it has been the hardest job that I have ever had, yet the most rewarding.  I am grateful, not only that I made this choice, but even for all the sacrifices our family made so that we could take this road together.  But to think that someone would look upon me and think, “lazy, out of touch, unable to understand the real world, simple minded, uneducated…”  I guess that is their problem and their uneducated conclusion.

But maybe Miss “talking head” is right, I haven’t worked “a day” in my life, I work them all!!!

Identity Theft

I write today, not so much because I want to, but because I need to.  It is with frustration and maybe even a little anger that I sit down to this keyboard.  The anger isn’t because someone had done something against me personally, it is for something being done to people I love.  There is a battle out there to steal the identity of my sisters in Christ.

It started for me (it actually began long before), or I first began to notice, when I was in high school.  My mom, my grandmother, and most women of their respective ages, seemed content with the choices they had made in life.  Mom and Grandma and most of their friends were enjoying life caring for their homes and family.  Most of my teachers were women, and they too seemed content with their choice.  But as I made my way through high school there was this inundation of…well…indoctrination, to convince me and my fellow young women, that I would never be happy, never be satisfied unless I chose certain “career paths” that were the “important” ones, the “accepted” ones.  And oh by the way, if you actually choose to get married, have a family and stay at home, not only do you lack ambition, but you are probably not very intelligent.  So much for actually having a choice, or at least being able to voice it.

What began to happen was our society started judging our identity by what we did.  It moved on from there to include what we look like, how much we weigh, what size we are and wear, the house we live in, the car we drive…do I need to go on?  I’m not saying that years ago we didn’t make these heinous judgments, let’s face it people are people, but who we are was much more internal than external, if not to others at least to ourselves.

These days I see so many young women chasing something they believe will give them meaning, purpose, and contentment.  Actually I see this in women of all ages, and it is weighing heavy on my heart.  There has been a quiet, seditious identity theft.  We women don’t seem to know who we are anymore and we don’t even know that our identity has been stolen.  Okay, it hasn’t actually been stolen, that would never be possible, but we seem to be trying to get by on a forged identity.

I have some young friends, intelligent women, lives that could be envied by some, daughters of the only true and living God, who seem to be confused about who they are.  A couple of them have graduated college, have decent jobs (especially in this economy), and a massive amount of student loan debt.  They both have way too much to do with never enough time.  Yet they are choosing to pursue more school (and debt) for no other reason (at least it appears to me) than they believe with a little more education and a little bit better job, that will then bring contentment.  I want to say to them; “if you can’t be content right now, exactly where you are, the battle is lost already.  Paul said to the Philippians “Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.  I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:11-13)  I so desperately want these dear souls to know where their identity actually lies, and it isn’t in a job or education.

There are a couple of other ladies I know, beautiful women that have been a blessing to me so many times.  Their lives also would be envied by most, and the things they have to offer others are immeasurable.  But they are so concerned about what they eat, that certain things don’t go in their bodies (not talking here about unreasonable things).  They need just the right clothes by the right designer in just the right (read small) size.  How can they not know that what they wear and the size they are isn’t who they are?

Part of the problem with both these groups of ladies is that they begin to judge others by the identity they desire.  It has been said to me on more than one occasion; “I couldn’t do what you do; it’s just not enough for me”.  In other words, “you have settled for so much less and I could never be content there”.  I have also been asked; “are you really going to eat that”, or “I can’t shop at a store like that”. 

Here’s my point; who we are, our identity, has nothing to do with superficial, outside sources that are nothing more than rubbish.  Again with the help of the apostle Paul I will remind us all; Philippians 3:8 “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ”

Our worth, our identity comes from whose we are not who we are, and certainly not from what we do.  If you are a Christian, you have been purchased with a great price, and unsurpassable price and you belong to God.  He has a purpose for your life that has way more to do with Him than it does you.  Look around at where He has placed you, if He has shown you where change and improvement are needed, go after that with tenacity.  But let’s no longer live with a forged identity, one that pretends to be important and worthy.   Don’t be a victim of identity theft.  There is no greater call, no “thing” that is more important than who we are in Christ.  Contentment comes in knowing who we are and resting there.

The Pain Then...The Happiness Now

Yesterday was a beautiful 70 degree day, almost hot by February standards.  I know that winter has not yet sung her swan song for the year, but it was impossible not to enjoy the day for the wonderful surprise it happened to be.

But why could I enjoy that glorious day for the gift it was?  Because I know how cold and miserable some days can be.  I’m all in for the snow days, but those dreary, gray, soggy, freezing days can be hard to endure.  However, I would never know the joy of a sun filled, warm winter day if I didn’t know the angst of the gray and miserable day.

Isn’t that true of so much in our lives?  These past few weeks I have watched as too many families have faced unbelievable tragedy, or they are facing the long haul of chronic pain, either internal, or external.  A family has lost their son to war, another faces the excruciating rollercoaster ride of their daughters fight with cancer.  As I write, a family is waiting news of their wife/mom/sister/daughter’s surgery on a malignant brain tumor, and then the prognosis and treatment.

There is so much in life to bring us pain.  A misunderstanding with a true and dear friend, children that are following the wrong path, angry words with our spouse, the lost promotion, or even the lost job.  I could fill this blog with for- instances of things, significant and seemingly trivial (if it isn’t your issue), that cause us, to one degree or another, pain.  And let me just state here that whatever “degree” it presents itself, pain is awful, unpleasant, dreadful, and appalling.  But do you know what else it is?  It’s that thing that lets us know of something better.  Is there a name for that?

I can remember days when I didn’t know if death would come that night, or it would simply wait until the morning.  There was a time when I didn’t think I could make it through one more second, let alone a whole day.  Times when I was sure I would never have a friend again, and that no one ever truly loved me.  I have believed that I had been abandoned and no one cared.  Being on the edge, wondering if the bad news is coming tomorrow, is one of the worst places to be.  I know how to swallow hard when the diagnoses and prognosis are grim and you are trying so desperately to hang on.

But there is something almost too amazing to comprehend.  As Joy Lewis says to C.S. Lewis, in the movie “Shadow Lands”; “The pain then is part of the happiness now. That’s the deal.”  If we did not know pain we would never know joy.  Just like if we did not know darkness we would never recognize light.  One cannot come without the other.  Misunderstandings with friends show us the gift of true friendship and how valuable it is.  Angry words with our spouses simply remind us of the love between us and how priceless it is, making us work toward repair.

A son or daughter gone sooner that we ever wanted, helps us to cherish the moments we had and reminds us to make our time together count.  The awful, nasty treatments for cancer come right in the middle of laughter and hope, how is that possible?  The prognosis of a brain tumor reminds us how precious every second spent together really is.  Losing a job or missing a promotion is an opportunity to find joy in doing better and persevering, not to mention the joy found in trusting in our Great Provider, God.

“The pain then is part of the happiness now”, like it or not, that really is the deal.  And I can’t help but wonder if being here, on this earth, living through the pain and the joy, will be that same “thing” that shows us just how glorious being with the LORD will be.