Last night as I was driving my girlchild to an appointment I asked her if she was special. After reading/hearing a lot of chatter about the various ways we label children I wondered about her take on the whole thing. After 13 years on this planet did she feel special? And if so, why? :Here's her response:
Everybody is special.
me: If everybody is special is anybody truly special? (just wanting to get her thinking)
Well, special comes in 2 ways. You are special because you have a talent at a task, like you are good at a sport or at school. And the second way you are special is because you have value. Somebody puts worth or value on you so that makes you special. The thing is we look at people to give us value or make us special or to take it away. People think they are not loved so they don't feel special or they think they are more special because they are better at something than somebody else. We forget that the reason we have value or are special is because we are loved. And we are ALL loved because God loves us, he loves all his children. He loves them all the same, so while we are so busy trying to prove that we are special He already did. If we would rest in His love then we wouldn't be so concerned about being special by anybody's standards.
me: **crickets** (I mean come on how do you add to that??)
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Monday, August 25, 2014
Inhale. "I can't do this....It's so hard" Exhale. "Smile and do it anyway"
I am broken. I can do this for an hour, a day, a week, a year...but a lifetime? How do I do this for a lifetime? An entire lifetime?
Looking at the milestones that are passing us by, marking our progress, and I feel myself growing numb. It's a comfortable numb. The kind that smiles and laughs but doesn't always ring true. The kind that most people don't even notice because they are fooled by the smoke and mirrors. It's easier....or is it? I don't even know anymore. I am lost in my own confusion basking in the familiarity of feeling nothing. If I felt...if I allowed myself the luxury of processing the loss...how would I breathe? How? Comforting myself with things that ultimately bring no comfort. Missing the strength that my past held. Deluding myself that I am no longer strong enough or maybe the delusion is that I am strong enough?
Every milestone we reach in joy is tinged with the sadness of being another milestone away from my momma. It's not the firsts....it's the seconds and thirds, the forever and evers. I don't want to change and grow and be different. I want to be the same as before. to hold on to the past in a way that makes it feel like the chasm isn't growing ever wider. It's not depressed, though it sounds that way, it's not sad. I don't know. I guess that's the first step, I don't know. How do I get to know? I need to go back to what was working. It's been 2 years on hold....2 years waiting for the other shoe to drop. A year of dealing with the firsts and then a year waiting to see if the seconds felt any different. Turns out they don't It all sucks and is okay in one fell swoop. I don't miss her more now but I also don't miss her less. I miss her differently. She is still the one I want to call and text and talk to, the one who want to tell me I'm doing okay. The one I want to make proud and the one who I know would delight in the mundane with me.
I guess the quest starts here, what it is I'm not sure yet. I just need to put one foot in front of the other and find the path that I long for and was successfully navigating before numb became normal.
I am broken. I can do this for an hour, a day, a week, a year...but a lifetime? How do I do this for a lifetime? An entire lifetime?
Looking at the milestones that are passing us by, marking our progress, and I feel myself growing numb. It's a comfortable numb. The kind that smiles and laughs but doesn't always ring true. The kind that most people don't even notice because they are fooled by the smoke and mirrors. It's easier....or is it? I don't even know anymore. I am lost in my own confusion basking in the familiarity of feeling nothing. If I felt...if I allowed myself the luxury of processing the loss...how would I breathe? How? Comforting myself with things that ultimately bring no comfort. Missing the strength that my past held. Deluding myself that I am no longer strong enough or maybe the delusion is that I am strong enough?
Every milestone we reach in joy is tinged with the sadness of being another milestone away from my momma. It's not the firsts....it's the seconds and thirds, the forever and evers. I don't want to change and grow and be different. I want to be the same as before. to hold on to the past in a way that makes it feel like the chasm isn't growing ever wider. It's not depressed, though it sounds that way, it's not sad. I don't know. I guess that's the first step, I don't know. How do I get to know? I need to go back to what was working. It's been 2 years on hold....2 years waiting for the other shoe to drop. A year of dealing with the firsts and then a year waiting to see if the seconds felt any different. Turns out they don't It all sucks and is okay in one fell swoop. I don't miss her more now but I also don't miss her less. I miss her differently. She is still the one I want to call and text and talk to, the one who want to tell me I'm doing okay. The one I want to make proud and the one who I know would delight in the mundane with me.
I guess the quest starts here, what it is I'm not sure yet. I just need to put one foot in front of the other and find the path that I long for and was successfully navigating before numb became normal.
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