“I’m scared we are going to be boring!” (sigh)
That melancholy statement was one I popped on Cliff about this time last year. It was in reference to how I saw the future with the kids hitting the trail of adventure as we sat home on the couch, looked at each other and waited for arthritis, burcitis and every other ‘itis’ to become of topics of conversation.
Much to my delight, I can say I was wrong. With the exiting of our excitement factories, new visions and experiences have appeared at every corner. Cliff and I have been able to really enjoy our first loves-each other. We are learning so much about each other that is startling. For example, I have learned that things I assumed Cliff liked, he really hasn’t but sucked it up because everyone else did. We can listen to each others dreams and be able to actually believe and encourage the other that they can truly happen. Though Cliff doesn’t understand my fascination with words and how people relate to each other, or reads much of my written ramblings, he has been a great resource and a kind, but truthful sounding board. On the other hand, I found out that he loves….drum roll…. roses! My baseball lovin’, deer hunting, oil field managing he-man just went crazy putting in a new bed that would rival the Portland Rose Gardens. Did not see that one coming, but I like it.
It seems random things like fly at us like machine gun fire on Osama’s compound. I used to refer to this time of the year as ‘The Gauntlet’ because one doesn’t remember what all one did; survival is the goal. This year it’s still true. After our last Extreme Kids Club afterschool program meeting of the year, I was hit with the plan-your-funeral-as-you-lay-on-the-bathroom-floor stomach flu. It was bad enough that I was not able to attend the royal wedding, much to the disappointment of William and Kate. The next day I determined to not waste my flu bug confinement as punk as I did feel. I zipped through the slow parts of the DVR nuptial version and camped on the touching ones, which couldn’t help but make the puny ol’ heart flutter. Mix in a flurry of unexpected turns at the church and a spring football game at McPherson College…well, boredom is not an option. To cap it off, somehow I ended up on the other side of the radio table to be interviewed for a nationally known radio show about none other than my ‘taxidermaphobia’. I had to laugh. Really? My psycho fear is now going to be my claim to fame? Who plans for random stuff like that? It seems to hunt us down.
When it doesn’t find us, we seem to jump in the middle of adventures. Not everyone has 40 lbs of pork shoulder in their PT Cruiser in a Smokey and the Bandit type race to get it in the freezer. It has a date with a smoker this week and then on to a graduation reception at Emporia State University.
I am thankful for the hope and purpose that comes from the ‘missions’ we are put here for. When the kids were little, a middle-aged neighbor lady in her purple mini-van, that looked like a giant grape, would zip down my street. I always knew that Barb was on a mission to take church bulletins to shut-ins, visit someone sick, or sometimes stop at our door to drop off juice boxes. “I was at Sam’s and just thought your kids would like some of these.” Then she would fly down in the street in a purple blaze. She didn’t even really know us, but was injecting my family with vitamin C as she extended the hand of friendship. I remember thinking “I want to grow up to be her someday.”
20 years later, guess who brought me sugar cookies for Mother’s Day? Barb! Giggling and carrying on as she delivered these coveted delights. What joy in being God’s messenger of encouragement and Christ’s love!
As I write this there are no references in my bible for ‘bored’ or ‘boredom’. Intentional? Hmmm… I don’t think it exists in God’s vocabulary. Let the record show that I think Barb is his Exhibit A.
Which of God’s exhibits will you be?