The Reality of Floating

I am on an innertube.   I am floating.  There is a current.

I have been riding it for over 20 years.  Now there is a breeze.  In fact, it is a pretty stiff breeze from the west.  Of is from the east? When it lulls, the current takes me.  When it is blowing, I take a  new direction.   The weather has been spotty these last few years.   But now, there is a storm a brewin'.

Out of control?   No.

I know He who calms the storms.

It's about being 51.

Tommy made it home from Wheaton, and is spending Labor Day Weekend in Minneapolis.   A fun change of plans.   I love spontaneity!

So, spontaneously, I'm gonna try to play golf with him.  First time to hit the links in 2 years.  Amazing.  Hip, knee, and now my "flicking" incident in July crippling my hand.  How can golf be such a physical challenge?  I mean really, I usually have to defend it as a sport.   But last time I attempted to play, it became clear that it  matters how all your body part parts are working to swing a club.   Sigh.  Almost 51 will require some Advil Liquigel, and rest following.  Going to give it the ol' college try at least.  Looking forward to it!

Isn't that just it?   We can still do, but the recovery is the issue.

Releasing my Grip

It is a process -- this letting go. It is a pleasure -- this releasing to fly. It is a problem -- the amount to step away. It is profound -- this relationship with children.

June is almost over. It has required a bit more than I anticipated.

Both my children have captured my attention in a new way over this past month. How naive to have thought that my role in their lives would devolve into one that required of me less, and provided for more me. I find the redefining process quite a test: of my faith, of my reason, of my prayer life, of my emotions. For when either set of brown eyes engage mine -- with a whisp of need, of sadness, of disappointment, of questioning -- it rarely brings me to an easy place. It requires a mental glance into my of source book of experience, and then a surge of pragmatism as to whether to intercede or let the glancer dig deeper to provide their answer to their need. Truth be told, I am hoping there are more times that they get their own trowels out and begin their adventure, but some primal urge to provide for them is always close to the surface.

Our life circumstances have been filled with much ado about Tommy for over a year now. Now, inject the arm break and Laura's transportation issues, her first employment in an office setting, her friendships and transition to home life after 2 years, and with a flourish add the full time employment which is an ever changing canvas of demands, and you have a woman who has waves of anxiety -- because in reality she has taken her eyes off the Provider for spots of time, who calculates and devises paths of success for all she cares about, and spends little time reflecting on the Word, resting in her Lord, and quietly listening for His voice. Now if that is not a recipe for exhaustion, what is?

So, I am attempting to set up some boundaries. I am intentionally injecting the Word, and Prayer journaling, and attempting to engage in meaningful conversation with other pilgrims following Jesus the Nazarene. It will lighten my load. It will recharge my drained cells. It will provide the wisdom for the eye locked questions posed by my young adults.

I know what to do -- if you think of me, please pray that my intentions will become my reality. Indeed, I hope this for you as well, my friends.

So this emptying and refilling of my nest will be covered by His grace. The celebrations will be sweeter, the absences will reflect fonder, and the reunions will be more precious. I am keeping on. Keep on with me, won't you?