The boys are situated with their summer school. They aren’t thrilled, but besides their normal school time banter, aren’t putting up much fight about it either. They each have a paper with their name and checklist for the week. This week they have boxes for four language arts lessons, three Bible lessons, two math lessons, three typing lessons, and three piano practice sessions. They can complete their list in any order they’d like with whatever combination they chose (I’m probably going to add that typing and piano have to spread out across the days) as long as their work is completed by Friday.

We’re currently in the middle of Joyful Hearts week at camp. This used to be and probably still is my favorite week of the summer. It’s the week when adult handicapped campers come for a week and are paired with a high school aged volunteer. Something about these campers opens up the part of our hearts that were made by God to love and serve. It’s funny to hear the stories my nurse friend tells about how for ten years she suffered through heat, mosquitos, hunger, and tackleboxes full of meds stacked halfway up the wall. After that this experience was transformed into a yearly blessing.

We had a good visit with Mom and Dad today. Mom brought several plants with her that she didn’t have room for in her garden. It made me happy to see my parents getting to talk with our old neighbors. They figured out the last time they’d seen each other was 2003. We ate with the rest of the camp, having baked potato bar for supper. They spent suppertime talking, and were there for the evening activities of making puppets and having a puppet show. It was a blessing to see my kids all in one room.

Two things occasionally come back to bother me about last year. The first is that most people do not have an understanding or awareness of how awful it was. The second is that I can’t seem to talk about it without sounding like a crazy person.

So I’m sitting with these two things for a minute. I’m not afraid of looking like a crazy person if that’s what it takes to communicate with you. But I’m also retiring the outgrowing desire to be heard and understood that drives me to insanity.

I actually do have control over myself. And in this way, more affinity for smiles, for peace, for hugs and letting go of the past. Remaining contained, composing, being known in the quiet feels better to me than any amount of losing control ever did.

“For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.”
~2 Corinthians 4:15~

Mom and Dad are all moved in. It’s been hard for me to not be more involved in their move, though I’m thankful that one of my sisters and my two brothers could be there to help. I haven’t been down to see them yet, but did send out a text to Mom yesterday to see if they’d want to come visit next week for supper sometime. The woman coming down as camp nurse next week used to be our next door neighbor in Lexington. This was during the time when my family had started attending the LCMS church there. Our neighbors were also a part of this church. She and her husband have come to camp for close to twenty years if I’m remembering correctly. It is always such a blessing to see and hang out with them.

With school being currently over for me, I’ve been working on how to best plan out my summer time. Yesterday I typed out a tentative checklist or guideline of things I either need to do or would like to make sure I do. I still am pretty limited in terms of physical stamina for more laborious tasks, and am still pretty tired after last week’s extra getting ready for camp. I’m imagining keeping things pretty low-key, but with interludes of more activity, followed by rest. On my list includes spaces for two daily outside tasks such as weeding or lighter yardwork. Then I have spots for three indoor activities, such as tidying a space or cleaning a bathroom. Also included is a place for a home management activity such as getting important mail out or sorting through papers.

Our Spiritual Nurture board is meeting this Monday. With school out I finally feel like I can give more attention to this board. Our church continues to be in a time of transition. The biggest focus with this board has been assessing what our church’s current needs are. For example, in the past, our church had a thriving youth group for many years. As we have tried to bring back some of the youth or family events, I have struggled with feeling like there is too much pressure on me to show up. It discourages me too much to be part of something that is a fading remnant of a bygone era. I end up feeling sad and merely obligated to populate the youth group which is made up of one other child besides pastor’s kids. The other assistant pastor is moving, so there’ll be even less kids after that.

None of this is to say that all churches need youth groups, or even that there is anything wrong with the way our church does things. I do, however, think something needs to change, and that we are at a good time to work toward what those changes might be. There is just an unnecessary kind of exhaustion that occurs when the purpose of doing something is simply because that’s what’s always been done, which is not an exhaustion I have energy to spend on. I have longed for so long for a place in church that excites me. It’s different for everyone, but I’ve long believed that the work we are especially put on this earth to do is the work we could do forever and not get paid. The first time I discovered that kind of work was at camp.

In addition to my various motherhood seasons, something about the blocks that have been in my life, whether in myself or in my personal relationships, have kept me from being more fully part of our church life. As those blocks are dissolving God is slowly opening space where I can be more involved. When I was growing up, church fellowship for me was one of highlights of living. During years that were a highly formative part of my life, I saw church as the storehouse of spiritual vibrancy, the place where I loved to be, and was most inspired to make Christ known to his world. It’s tempting at times to be mad at myself that it has taken so long to get over certain things, though I continue to trust in the way God moves and returns us to our spiritual rest. I have learned too much from the Lutherans to lose. It was the Lutherans who taught me to love neighbors too.

Lately when I see Ghost sleeping I feel like I need to check and see if he’s still breathing. We’ve had a few normal stretches of mild spring weather where he lived outside again for those times. But he seems to like it in here now, and it was hotter and more humid again today. My heart has completely changed toward Ghost. When he first came around I was grossed out with how terrible and beat up he looked. He’d been living in the dumpster after his owners moved away but didn’t end up taking him with.

His original name was Morris. We learned all this when his former owner stopped by the house one day. I don’t remember why he was there, and he didn’t take Ghost with him, but he did give us more background into his history. Even when we first adopted him as an outside cat, I wasn’t overly affectionate with him because I didn’t like when he would sneeze without warning. Over time, however, he started to grow on me, and became a familiar face on the front picnic table where we do summer camp check-ins.

The first group of campers comes in tomorrow night. I think I feel at peace about camp starting now. The thing about our son being away for most of the summer was something that was on my mind so much, I felt like I needed to talk with him. We ended up having a few moments together where I was able to share some of my feelings, tell him that I’ll never feel like I had enough time, and that I was sorry for wasting the time that I had. I was crying pretty hard trying to tell him all this, not knowing what he thought.

I’m having to grow to be secure even when it comes to parenting my own son, as I’ve often let stereotypes guide me instead of love, whether it’s stereotypes about mothers or stereotypes about men. The facts are that love unapologetically includes times of intimate tenderness. He said the funny thing about all this is that he was right next door, which did make me shake my head and laugh. I pulled him in tighter and told him I loved him so much and started crying again. I left knowing I had been loved in return.

We had a nice Memorial Day weekend. The Sunday dinner went well and we were blessed with good weather. Yesterday evening we enjoyed spending the evening around the campfire with another couple. She used to work with us at camp, and he is pastor in the district who we’ve known through his extended family. Today we had a family friend from Hoyleton come visit. She’s the one who used to come over and watch the kids while I went to the store. Tonight I’m thankful for the joys of family and friends.

He wondered why I’d come if I wasn’t going to end up getting out of the car. In the middle of the day an email went out to the track kids and parents that one of their teammates had won state in the high jump and triple jump. They were meeting at school to welcome him back and celebrate. I knew my son would want to go, and asked if he’d mind if I came along. I came because I wanted to share in the happy moment.

Yesterday’s little urgent care visit seems to have cured the ill temper that had taken up residence. Camp season is here now, with weekend events beginning this morning. We spent some of the afternoon finishing up the cleaning in the front of the house. It might be a tad harsh to say that the front of our house starts to look like a dump after a while. I admit there is an element of keeping up with the Jones’s when it comes to my ideas of the improvements our house needs, but there is also value in normal upkeep.

I’m happy with the way it turned out. It isn’t perfect or completely finished, but it’s better than it was before. They say you can tell a lot about a man by the way he keeps his yard. I tend to think the state of the yard reflects more on me. When the kids were little I thought I just didn’t have time to bother with things like outside beautification. Now that they are older, I think I still just get depressed and give up.

None of this accounts for what is truly on my mind. There was a moment with a child where the stated factor of decision-making was that it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Moments after I found this out, I was swept up into a conversation that would’ve been even more enjoyable had I not been distracted. Panic and rage were firing inside me while simultaneously being introduced to a couple who is camping for the weekend. I feel I am too sensitive for this vocation I have.

Two of the kids are sleeping away from the house tonight. One is with the summer staff and another is sleeping in a camper with friends. I understand that these are all very normal things. A couple of moms and I were talking tonight about how it feels like we are losing our kids. I was not the only mom who wants her kids to be home with her and for things not to feel like they’re gone before they’ve even technically left. We also acknowledged that we were thankful they had this camp where they wanted to be.

Every so often a shift in the life or parenting stage comes with its internal adjustments, and sends me back to feeling like I am raw, inexperienced, and starting all over. In the end, I am overwhelmed feeling blessed beyond measure for the privilege of having been a part of their lives. Every day of this journey has been one of learning to trust in the goodness and love of God towards my children, but also for me. I truly can’t keep up, and still today, am learning to embrace, love, know, and be along for the ride.

It’s been a full but good day. The boys technically finished their school year this morning. I admit it was pretty anti-climactic, with me telling them we’d be heading to the store when they were done with their school. Their year began in a low-key fashion and ended that way as well. They have a week off school and then I do plan to have them continue working on math, language arts, and Bible throughout the summer.

We’ve shared a few meals with the staff since they’ve been here. All except one have worked here before or been a campers or junior counselors here. The cooks have nearly begun their full-time summer duties, but Josh and I were in charge of supper tonight. I shopped for the food while in town this morning, and he did most of the food prep. We had an unexpected trip to urgent care this afternoon in the pre-supper hours.

One of the boys accidently sliced his finger with a pocket knife. He’d been working with my father-in-law in his farm shed. He brought him out for us to look at it to see what we thought. It looked deep enough to need some further medical attention. Thankfully he hadn’t cut himself too near a joint or a fingernail. The doctor was able to glue it and cover the glue with steri-strips. We were thankful that he was alright and cared for.

It’s a rainy afternoon. The kids are with grandma for their annual camp supplies shopping spree. Josh is with the staff, as staff training started yesterday at noon. The cats currently inside are all napping peacefully. I spent the morning doing normal things such as tidying, sweeping, and vacuuming the upstairs. While I was sweeping, one of the girls who was in the office asked if she could use our bathroom. I did one of those split second things in my head where I wondered if it was rude or appropriate to tell her that there is a bathroom in the office, but simply said, “Yes, just let me make sure it’s decent first.”

I’ve been in kind of a bad mood lately. It’s not the outward kind where you end up being short or impatient with someone. That actually doesn’t happen very much with me anymore. This is more of a simmering beneath the surface, that makes me wonder how it’s going to end up coming out. I slightly raised my voice at one of the outside cats when I opened our back door to empty out the vacuum canister. He ran inside and I was fumbling around with him in the pantry saying, “No, you are not coming in here!”

Something very weird just happened as I was writing. (I literally just pulled a crawling tick out of my hair after typing that). One of the daughters of our staff members walked into our house and into the living room where I currently am. She was looking for her mother. That’s all resolved now, but again, there was that momentary ethical dilemma of wondering how I am supposed to handle this. Am I supposed to host the child until her mother returns? Josh ended up taking her back to main camp with the staff.

After that paragraph someone came to the door. I’m kind of over the point of my life where I want people to understand me. At some point it really is just time to grow up. One of the mistakes I’ve made here before is when I end up listening to younger staff members rant or share their complaints about something, I end up sharing my own complaints or negativity. I’ve always been a little confused by the blankness or lack of reciprocity in support when I do that. It makes sense to me now though. I’m the adult.

We had our Grief Share meeting at church last night. It seems to me to be going well. I mostly listen and occasionally add to the discussion, but yesterday I led the group since the DCE was unable to be there. Though I’ve experienced a bit of commitment remorse, it’s been nice to feel involved in something and like maybe people are being helped. Again I felt free to simply listen and affirm in the opening of space for common pain to be witnessed. This morning I was feeling a little revisited by the times of life that require from us more solitude than sharing. The nature of human pain is that we often feel alone in it.

Every so often I feel alone again and societally re-distanced by all the things that had to happen in order to get to the place where I currently am. I’ve also been a little annoyed with the ways I seem to repeatedly write, to where I don’t even want to engage the process. I’d like to start a summer reading project, but have yet to pursue or have the desire for any kind of mentally challenging book. It’s like I’m burnt out on the fantasy that any of this is going to be useful someday.

The landscaping rocks were delivered yesterday in two truckloads. Josh and the boys moved the rock into the front of the house. I was able to do some brief shoveling and moving around of the rock with the hoe, which I noticed and am definitely thankful for. There’s still like a hollowness feeling in the middle of my chest, where everything used to be that held things together, but was destroyed when the lightning blew everything out.

One of the fish they caught three times. The third time they caught him, he’d swallowed the hook. He wasn’t going to survive long following the removal. Each of the boys took turns holding a stick with the intent to end the fish’s misery. None of the boys were able to bring themselves to kill it, which somewhere in my heart was a relief for me to hear. They picked him up and lowered him into the water, where he died.

I used to want to write a book telling women they needed to have more sex with their husbands. I thought most of the world’s men were sexually starved, addicted to pornography, and in need of women who understood their needs. Wives having more sex with their husbands would be a way to show love to them, to experience increased closeness and enjoyment themselves, and would basically eliminate society’s marriage problems.

Women had a duty and special role in saving men. The best movies were not the ones where the damsel in distress was suddenly rescued by a man, as if the only thing that made him great was her helplessness and physical weakness. It was no surprise to me that Wonder Woman was directed by a woman, with every dream and fantasy resonating as true, all while showing that the truest feminine spirit was not anti-male.

Sexual creatures are powerful creatures. I struggle to grasp and know next to nothing about the proposed fantasies that involve a woman being bound and tied up by a man. Submission in theory was not a problem for me. Most personal sexual fantasies put me in a position of power. Either the man was so taken by my sexual energy and presence, rendering him weak and helpless himself, or I was offering my body to comfort him.

The innocent desires I will sometimes bring up, when the bonds of marital closeness encourage words to flow more freely, allowing for the knowing and true expressions of the soul. I can talk about the man next door without a woman beside him, how at one time I thought about climbing in through his window in the middle of the night, then crawling into his bed. There’s the passing hint of attraction when you’re around someone new.

It doesn’t seem wrong until I think about actually doing it, and even more so, him doing it. If wanting to build a life of any deep and lasting value, there isn’t space in a relationship for any outsiders capturing the body or heart of the other. Fidelity sounds romantic, and I would say that it is, but there were years when monogamy was physically painful, so consumed was I with grief that I would never again be newly explored or discovered.

Time would mercifully cure this, though at times the truth to me still seems harsh: If people do not amend their ways, if either one decides they cannot go on or will no longer forgive, if God does not perform the miracle, then the marriage is doomed from the moment it begins. Biblical covenant love is no joke. Give it time and you will know the power behind for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.

Some topics seem to inexplicably find their way to us. I sometimes wonder why this one seems to be mine, one that has stayed with me over the course of years and years. The church is often criticized for not talking about sexual issues openly enough, and in the instances when they do, they’re criticized for not talking about it in an appropriate way. At this point I am thankful that I never wrote that book, and wouldn’t write it anymore.

The extra-curricular activities are winding down for the school year. Last night was the final baseball game of the season. Tonight we attended the senior awards ceremony, which included a few academic awards for juniors. Our son received the awards for Math and Religion. He has always excelled in school and done so mostly with relative ease. I think it’s easy to take for granted the things we admire about our loved ones, to where we don’t take the time to speak the things we genuinely feel inside. I am proud of him for what he has accomplished in his school years and thankful to God for gifting him with the ability to remember things and do well in school.

Today was a good day, even as I spent another mid-morning awake but in bed. I was half still tired and half still down and in a slump, with my aunt and grandma’s travel in my thoughts and my prayers. Yesterday I went swimming for the first time since November. I met with a pastor’s wife friend and we swam for 20 minutes in the lap pool before transferring over to the rec pool for more stretching and standing movements while simultaneously catching up on life. I felt amazingly good afterwards, the best I have felt since this whole thing started. The boys had come with me and worked on school and drank coffee in the lobby. I tried not to torture them with an endless banishment of wondering how long they’d have to sit there and was back within the hour.

Josh has still been doing the majority of the grocery shopping. After I was sick again in December and early January, he picked it back up. Once I started school and he entered into his slower season for camp, the shopping was just something he kept on doing. I never intended for him to do it this long, but I do feel like it’s been an extended relief and honestly something that was best for me to not do. He asked if I could go today after my appointment and before it was time to pick up our daughter. The boys stayed here while he helped a school group. I still find pushing the cart and transferring the food to its places to be very different, but with rest again, possible.