{"id":601,"date":"2010-03-12T09:21:00","date_gmt":"2010-03-12T14:21:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/friday-march-12-2010\/"},"modified":"2010-03-12T09:21:00","modified_gmt":"2010-03-12T14:21:00","slug":"friday-march-12-2010","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/friday-march-12-2010\/","title":{"rendered":"Friday March 12, 2010"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"March_0375\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

In my opinion, normal life is just the greatest life on earth. Whenever I say I want normal life there is always someone who says, “Oh, what is normal?” and “Normal always changes.”<\/p>\n

(Adam thinks this picture taking thing is great. He now insists that I pose for him “here” and look like “this” which most times means arms crossed and mad. He’s hysterical.)
\"March_0362\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

Which is true. But I don’t know how else to describe our little family just living, well, normal life!<\/p>\n

\"March_0351\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

The two weeks prior to this one have been just crazy, crazy. Way too many places to go, people to see, jobs to do, obligations, and imminent deadlines. We had an evening financial seminar at church one week from Wednesday through Sunday. I absolutely loved our time there. Honestly. But the speaker went overtime by a half hour every service, it was full moon that week and the boys went nuts jumping off all our furniture, waking up an hour earlier then normal every morning and barely sleeping at naptime in spite of their very, very late bedtimes thanks to church. (Don’t ask me why. They don’t do that every full moon; but as soon as it was over they settled down.) I thought my sanity would explode with the effort of keeping their bodies intact.<\/p>\n

\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a> <\/p>\n

Does it not seem like the most unfair thing to you that the days and weeks when we are the busiest, all the housework mulitiplies? Seriously. I could not keep my house cleaned up that week (or the next) for anything. Coming downstairs to a mess every morning is depressing. By Monday we’d recreated the Himalayas with laundry piles, David had a mentoring meeting in the evening, and I’d just found out a few days prior that it was my turn to have devotions at the church sewing Tuesday. And so the week continued with more things piled on top of more things on top of more things on top of more things. It didn’t help that I’d been dragging around with the flu and relapses of it for the last month. The boys and I missed the meeting Saturday night because I was running a fever again.<\/p>\n

\"March<\/a> <\/p>\n

By the time the weekend rolled around, we were at least looking at fun things to do even if it meant more going away. Friday night David and I were invited to a sweetheart banquet an hour and a half away. We loved it! It was so much fun to go somewhere just the two of us and we got to meet some new, fun people, too. But oh, my word, talk about overextending the babysitting. I thought we’d be back by 9:30 or so and instead we were leaving the banquet about then with an hour and a half drive home! We picked up the boys and rolled them into bed. Jo<\/a>, you have hours of babysitting credits at my house!<\/p>\n

Saturday morning we met up with my sister, Beth<\/a>, and family at a children’s museum. When we originally planned the outing, I didn’t think the week would turn out the way it did or we’d never have planned it. But we weren’t about to break a promise to the kids just because we were tired. The kids had so much fun it was unbelievable. <\/p>\n

\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a> <\/p>\n

That night we drove to my parent’s place instead of home which was just the most relaxing, wonderful thing ever. My uncle and his wife were in the area so they joined us for supper and we had the greatest time talking and laughing and catching up. Mom fixed a special version of supper for Liam and for once I actually truly had a break from fixing food. It was amazing. Then she got even more super amazing and showed me the allergen free ice cream cones she’d found at the grocery store. We quickly popped one of his flavored goat milk yogurts into the freezer in hopes that it would harden before dessert time. It didn’t; but he slurped it up delightedly anyway ~ his very first ice cream cone!!!
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a>
\"March<\/a> <\/p>\n

The next day was just pure relaxation. Church with Mom and Dad, catching up just a little with an old friend, amazing food, happy kids, and warm sunshine. Oh, Spring. How I do love you.<\/p>\n

\"March_0320\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

And now we’ve had a whole week of what I call our normal and I am starting to feel amazingly rejuvenated in my spirit. Instead of going away every single day, we’ve stayed at home except for one evening birthday party. The mountains of laundry have disappeared and even the guest closet jammed full of clothes to be ironed is clear. My long, long to-do list is three quarters of the way checked off even though the boys and I have taken time to go on walks and to the park and read lots of stories. I enjoyed cooking dinner every night and on Adam’s suggestion, used china last night just because instead of throwing some food on the table as quickly as I could get it together. <\/p>\n

The best gift of all came yesterday morning when the boys both slept til after 9. You know how you come to depend on that little break you get when they take a nap and how crazy you feel when you don’t get it? Well, when I get an extra hour, it feels crazy good! I sat down with a cup of tea and my Bible and a new journal (funny how new paper and a pen can make me ridiculously happy) and just soaked in that extra hour. <\/p>\n

\"March_0315\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

That’s normal life for us. Happy. Together. With enough time to enjoy just doing normal things. I love having time to call Adam to the door to listen to the spring peepers. I love thinking about the flavor of my coffee instead of gulping it down so I wake up enough to function. I love noticing the way the warm afternoon light streams through the door instead of racing past on my way up the stairs. And best of all, I love having my brain relaxed and free so that I really notice the cute things the boys are doing instead of just checking in to make sure they aren’t in trouble. <\/p>\n

\"March_0360\"<\/a>
\"March_0380\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

Our neighbor is going through a mean separation from his third wife. Earlier some things had happened and we were sure he was at the end of his rope. Now, to us, it looks like the ends are fraying. Tuesday night when David stopped in he was crying and just completely done in. He’d been drinking and didn’t want to talk then so David invited him to come for dinner and to talk the next evening. We went to bed praying that he wouldn’t do something desperate in the interim. By Wednesday evening he’d regrouped and for over three hours we sat at the dinner table and listened to parts of his life. At the end, I said, “I’ve had some really painful things in my life … enough to know what happens when you get hurt. But I cannot imagine a lifetime of pain and being hurt and taken advantage of by almost every single person around you.” To which he said, “I’ve only told you the tip of the iceberg.”<\/p>\n

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard a rough story. But it’s the first time I’ve heard it without redemption at the end. You know, we usually hear the conversion story. And all my friends and their friends have mostly good stories. Well, 98% of them. There are a few really raw stories of emotional pain; but they are usually inflicted by one or two people in that persons life. Not one person pitted against the world. He’s angry at people and at God. Who could blame him for feeling that way? He equates God with people who go through the motions of “church life” and every encounter he has had with “God” has left him with a bitter taste in his mouth for good reason.<\/p>\n

Ever since that night I cannot stop grappling with this question. How would I be convinced that God is a good God if I would have lived through what he has lived through? We say we believe that God is good. We say that God “lets it rain on the just and on the unjust.” We believe that God is good even when our prayers are not answered the way we want them. We cling to God in the face of trauma, death, financial loss, and hurt. Rightly so. But how much of what I believe to be true and what I cling to when stuff gets rough is because of what I have seen God do in the past? What if there were no history like that for me? <\/p>\n

I know the right answers. And I believe them. I believe God is bigger then his horrible life and the choices he is still making. But knowing how hard I have grappled with the fundamental belief that God is good when life is horrible for a period of time, I keep wondering how I would believe if life would always have been horrible. Especially when that horrible was masked in Christianity.<\/p>\n

\"March_0367\"<\/a> <\/p>\n

More then ever yesterday, I could not stop being grateful for normal. Happy. Together. Living normal life. It’s not fair. But what a gift.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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