This latest round of sanctification going on has not been pleasant. I had grand plans to write tonight but I’m struggling now to keep my eyes open.

The high schoolers are here for high school week. The boys were all at camp last week so I’m happy to have them home again. I miss them greatly.

Sleep is a wonderful gift from God. Not only does he give us rest from our labors but he uses the night to grant us a deep restoration from the day.

More and more I’m realizing just how prone to disconnection I am. And when I am disconnected I do not feel like myself. And when I do not feel like myself, that is, when I do not feel happy and fulfilled and like people are these wonderful beings who bring so much joy, wonder, and excitement into life, it feels to me like something is wrong. It feels like I am missing something. It feels like I am bored and alone.

We had a board of directors meeting tonight at the church. Before I went I was not looking forward to it. I have enjoyed my role and being a little more involved but I still feel like something is missing there. Just like in your intimate relationships they say how you can’t expect your spouse or romantic partner to meet all your needs, I wonder if it is the same with church where it can’t meet every social need.

People had suggestions when I brought this up. I could change where I sit in the pew on Sundays. That way I’d get a chance to talk to a wider variety of people. Or during the 5th Sunday potlucks, instead of our family sitting all at one table, we could split up and spread out among other tables. Someone mentioned me coming to pew sisters again. I probably would if it weren’t that this year I will now have classes on Tuesdays.

So there it is. It’s this combination of “no, I’m not going to do that” (change where I’m sitting) and “that legitimately isn’t going to work for me right now”. I was reminded, however, sort of indirectly in my spirit, that there is nothing stopping me from noticing someone else and reaching out to them. There is definitely truth to forgetting about yourself for a while and looking to see and meet the needs of others.

This is what I’m most looking forward to doing. Being able to give people my undivided attention. To listen to them and be a witness with them. To love them in a way that many people have never experienced but is lastingly healing once you do. There is nothing special about any of this, that is, nothing beyond what God has already called and given me to do in this life. I was thankful for the needed reminder.

It’s been fun documenting some of my cleaning process here. Today I made another trip to goodwill. I bagged up the books I’d taken out of the schoolroom, as well as the kitchen things I got rid of after cleaning out the cupboards to the right side of the sink. There was an entire garbage bag that I filled, including the contents of almost ten plus years worth of accumulated cords.

We threw out the microwave that we have had for fifteen years. It was a gift from a former congregation member who told me in the note she wrote that every young mother ought to have a working microwave. I was thankful and touched by her generosity and thoughtfulness and the microwave has served us well. Right now I have no plans to buy a new one. I told my husband we can see how it goes. We still have a stovetop popcorn popper that was also a gift.

My mother-in-law and I went shopping for an iPhone today. For graduation she told us she would help get Ethan a phone. She was also going to cover the first year of his payment plan. It is things like this that have tremendously helped us out financially along the way. Two of our working cars were gifts from my in-laws. In total we have received four vehicles from them as gifts.

Back in May I got together with a with the woman whose feelings I was sure I had hurt on one of the evenings of my daughter’s play. She invited me over for morning of tea and conversation. I always like talking to her, as she’s one of those people who you just dive in deep with as far as conversation goes. She had strawberries and muffins and these pretty little plates set up in a screened in porch.

Her first question for me was “What are you grieving?” It was such an odd question that it scared me at first. Was I supposed to be grieving something? Did it seem like I was grieving? Was this some sort of sign that grieving was imminent? The first thing that came to mind was my son, the whole thing about children growing up and moving on. “Ethan”, I said, a little self-conscious about my answer.

She gave me an old copy of The Magnolia Journal, the magazine that always has Joanna Gaines on the cover. She’d marked a page about a woman who was writing about grief. The woman wrote:

“I wanted to be a mom so bad and felt called to be a mom, so when I couldn’t make that happen I felt stuck in some sort of in-between space. I realized that I didn’t really know who I was and I also didn’t know how to start the process of figuring it out. I had to create space and step outside of my situation, and I had to have the guts to grieve. I learned that just because I’m hurting, it doesn’t men I don’t trust God. I didn’t have to get over this quickly or sweep it under the rug to benefit others. It’s ok to grieve and it’s ok to give myself permission to have a hard time. It’s ok to be just where I am in this journey.”

My son and I had a very close relationship when he was little. He was an absolute joy to have around daily and be with. I loved being his mom, carrying him around, watching Arthur in the background, buying his dot-to-dot books that he loved to do.

Somewhere in the middle years we lost what we had. The last thing I remember he was a third grader in the track tent, in one of the only meets I saw in grade school. While going through his room this summer, I was packing up the things from his walls. There were ribbons from his elementary school years, from the track events when he was in 3rd and 4th grade. I had no idea he had been in so many meets.

Or at least, I had no recollection. What I remembered was us holding hands, walking to the concession stand to buy us both some hot chocolate. He wasn’t weird for him to hold my hand, or sit with me under a blanket between events. I don’t even remember ever seeing him run. I just remember the long jump because that one had a picture. I remember the two of us staying up late to watch the Cardinals in the 2011 World Series.

He was only seven years old. Somewhere all of this slowly stopped happening…

Heartache is definitely a part of motherhood, just as it is in many other vocations. There’s the wonderful relationship I had with my son. There’s the relationship we had together but lost. There’s the relationship I hoped for but never had. There’s the time with him I can’t get back. There’s the part of my heart that will always be his.

Over the weekend my husband commented that I’m getting more robust. I am worn out tonight, but it’s the tired that comes from having had a busier day. My parents came up for the morning and a little bit this afternoon. I’d asked my mom if she’d be free some day to come up and help me clean and organize our pantry and storage areas. The pictures I sent her are absolutely hilarious. The pantry especially was a disaster.

I just keep finding things to clean, though looking around you still wouldn’t be able to tell. I’ve definitely lost my laser focus and the cleaning has just spread now to anywhere and everywhere there needs something being done. As mom reminded me several times, “You don’t need to make a decision about that today”. The books and clothes are enough to keep me busy, and those I haven’t don’t anything with for days.

Two of the boys had physicals this afternoon. That’s another thing that’s been keeping me busy, the paperwork and ins and outs of getting things lined up for college. Most of my focus has transferred over to here. I opened a separate bank account that I’m affectionately calling the college fund. Up until now I have not had to borrow money for school, but this year I am needing to take out a loan, some for me and the rest for him.

I had an email today that our summer intensive class material was ready to be accessed. I printed out the syllabus and most of the rubrics. We have two decently easy-ish papers due before class starts. This one is called Integrating Spirituality into Counseling. There are only four of us taking this class and we have each been assigned a particular religion to present on. I was excited to see I had to counsel a Buddhist.

The pantry looks a hundred times better than it did. Just the order of it is enough for me. I’m definitely looking forward to camp being over but I’m also just trying to take advantage of the time. Someday I’ll tell the story about lying in the boys room and staring out at the closet. I was either going to have to move out or clean up, because the way things were was making me ill. The thing about this kind of cleaning is that it lasts.

The past few Sundays have been different from usual. The kids and I went to a different church a couple of weeks ago. I originally wanted to go to the bigger Christian church in town, Westside Christian. Not a single one of them liked that idea. My kids have been raised very differently than I have when it comes to church. I had exposure to a variety of denominations and church styles. They have been Lutheran their entire lives.

So we ended up going to another Lutheran church in town. I wanted to let the kids sleep in, as several of them were coming off a week of night owl. I feel I might be getting my facts mixed up, like I’ve lost track of the weeks and what happened when. Nevertheless it was a nice time and a nice service. I was glad we ended up going to the Lutheran church instead of the other one. It ended up being the right thing to do.

Afterward we stopped by my in-law’s house. Since my father-in-law’s surgery and extended hospital stay, we haven’t been going out to lunch like we usually do. He is still very much in the recovery phase from his surgery. He’s also just more weakened in general these days. Last weekend Josh did not have to preach somewhere, so we all went to the Saturday night service of another one of the Lutheran churches in town.

This Sunday again we did not go to church. Over the weekend our camp hosted what they call a Luther Ball Tournament. Three surrounding Lutheran camps came and participated. Josh did a Saturday night service in the outdoor chapel which made it possible for the various camp staffs to leave earlier Sunday morning, as they all had several hours of travel before them. I like having Sunday mornings off sometimes.

We went over to my in-laws house around lunchtime. Last week we brought lunch to them. This time my mother-in-law had ham, scalloped potatoes, and sweet corn. My father-in-law sometimes plants potatoes that he gives us bags and bags of in the summer, but this year he planted corn. I’m thankful for this family tradition we’ve had and that their home has been a consistent place of familiarity in all of our lives.

Before returning to camp we drove out to the farm. Several of the kids had not yet seen the latest progress on the house they are building. They had originally hoped to be moved in by Christmas but they’re not sure that’s going to happen now. The latest update I have heard is maybe sometime in the spring. In spite of the circumstances they’ve continued on with the plans. It’s sad to me that it’s having to happen like this.

But right now no one really seems focused on that. It comes up in conversation every once in a while but then we go back to talking about the other things. I’m really just a passive observer in this except for the occasional nursing input. There is a common understanding that family is important and things like this make that understanding even stronger and strengthens our faith in the process. Truly he will keep your life.

The downstairs room is basically finished now. All but one of the kids switched rooms, and the one who didn’t now has his own dresser. What I’m learning about teenagers is that there’s a differentiation that has to occur. As kids grow they become more and more their own person. For us that was signified by giving the oldest kids their own rooms. The one who’s already had her own room moved to a different room that has a closet where she can hang her clothes and organize her things.

Obviously people in third world countries who live in one room huts live differently. They find their own ways to do things when it comes to raising their families. Right now we’re blessed with a fairly large house with lots of space. It may have been messy, but it’s never felt cramped to me. If we ever did need to house family members or refugees there actually would be plenty of room to do so. I would just like to continue making the space we’ve been given as usable and as pleasant to be in as possible.

Something I need to remember about my kids working at camp is that when I worked at camp I rarely ever went home. On the weekends I was happy to stay where I was. I didn’t have a car until I bought one from our neighbor. Before that if I went home it was because someone from camp would bring me, usually my now husband. I don’t remember if he did his own laundry or if his mom did it. It seems to me God blesses most with the gift of having at least one chore we don’t mind doing.

There are some days I would wish to never remember. Today wasn’t one of them, but I’ve had so many. It’s a pain so familiar, so a part of who I am, that there is no day now, no certain time of the every month when it comes. It’s just a wound that heals and stops hurting until the next time.

So when the good days come I rejoice in those. Today was a good day. What made it good was the many interactions with others. My son and I cleaned a little more downstairs. For another I was able to turn dirty clothes into clean ones and drive him down to the beach to get his watch.

Another mom drove out to bring the gluten free kids cookies. She handed me her signature decaf iced coffee right as I was getting ready to give one of the camp cooks a ride. She needed to go to Sam’s, the great store of abundance. There surely were more, but these ones now come to mind.

My son and I went to Lowe’s this morning to try again with the accent wall. The original color I wanted was called Open Seas. It was the color I was drawn to, plus I liked the name. But then I started looking at greens and went with the color called Contented. I was hoping that the name of the color would magically produce in me a contented state when we were done. But it was too light, too dull for my liking. That’s when we went back and tried to darken it to the Coastal Plain.

This time we chose the color Manitou Blue. I guess I sort of learned from my mistake, because after seeing the shade of the original Contented, I knew the Open Seas would likely not be bright enough. Manitou Blue was a shade darker, but not too dark. I told my son I thought it was pretty and he agreed that it was. He said he felt like it had more life to it and I felt the same way. We brought the paint home, hopeful it could work. We both loved the color as soon as we started painting.

So that wall is done now. That’s about all I did today as far as the rooms go. For as much as I’ve gotten rid of, we still have so much, and I haven’t even touched the actual downstairs storage area. I keep seeing it whenever I am down there switching laundry and then I wonder why I ever decided to keep any of it. I’ve always kept a china set that a seminary wife gave me after Josh and I helped them move. It was from her first marriage and didn’t end up fitting in their moving truck.

It was super nice, one of the nicest things I felt like we owned, so I always kept it. We never registered for dishes for our wedding. My mother-in-law gave me her old plates and bowls after she’d replaced hers when they redid their kitchen. When we moved from Hoyleton a friend gave me her set of white plates, bowls, saucers, and coffee mugs. I don’t know why we didn’t register for dishes. I guess I figured we didn’t need them. I’ve never really missed not having had new ones.

I’m starting to feel like I’ve been too much in my head with all this. Like it’s having that you’re starting to go back to your crazy ways kind of feel. I went to Target and Ross today to look for curtains. They didn’t have what I was looking for. I did find a couple of clothing items at each of those places. A dress, three shirts, and two pairs of clearance pants that I thought I could put in my collection I’ve been meaning to start of nicer clothes for when I’m supposed to look more put together.

Today ended up being more of a low energy day. I couldn’t tell if I was tired or just needed to do something. Piano lessons were thankfully canceled today. Again I hadn’t practiced much. My son who’s here and I decided to go down to the lake for swimtime. Dad was already paddle-boarding, so I just joined him and we paddled around in the lake for a while. He dropped me off in the swim area and I swam for a while.

That was nice, but didn’t revive me. On most days I feel energized after being down at the lake. I tried to clean some more in the schoolroom but didn’t accomplish too much. It was pretty clean again not too long ago but then the boys had a LEGO war over the weekend. I still don’t know what I’m going to do with all the LEGOs. I actually started an ebay account in order to sell stuff but so far I’ve only tried listing some of my textbooks.

I rested for a little while before supper. They had mini subs, veggie straws, apples, and brownies tonight. To me that is one of the best camp supper meals, and it’s nice for the cooks and dishwasher because there aren’t a ton of dishes. For some reason I was getting emotional while sitting in the dining hall. I’m not really sitting around thinking about my son going to college, but for months now if I think or talk about him I’ll start to cry.

Not always, but sometimes. The weird part is I can’t really talk about it with him. He doesn’t understand and I don’t think he’s supposed to. I actually won’t be going along when it comes time to take him. I have a summer intensive that starts the same day he is supposed to be in Nebraska. When I first found that out I thought the obvious thing to do was to drop the intensive. Obviously a child going to college is something I wasn’t going to miss.

But then I thought, “You know? He’s going to be okay.” He doesn’t really need me to go with him, and like he already said when I asked him about it, me not going with to take him would most likely be harder on me than for him. So I’ve been at peace with that decision and with the circumstance that led to it. He doesn’t need me there and he will be okay without me. He will be getting a phone and I’m hoping we can keep in touch that way.