Lovin is easy . . . .

Another morning that Brazen has forgotten to eat breakfast.  Ugh.  He's all over the place, from flying high and checking the chore chart with his initials and wanting to be the big house hero to sinking as low as to whispering in Camble's ear "Hey, Camble, go ask Mama if we can have some ice cream.  Go ask.  Do it."  I am the omniscient.   I am Mama.   He doesn't even have to ask.  I answer, "Are you kidding me?????  Have you gone and lost your mind, Son?????  IT IS 7:00 IN THE MORNING!!"  He's done all of his chores.  He's checked off everything on my list.  He just forgot to feed himself first.  Looking in his eyes and seeing his head sink back about 45 degrees backwards, like a cartoon character would do to avoid the rushing wind of the shouting, I get my answer.  I see it clearly.  Because, all the while, I have been asking myself,  "Why?  Why is he doing this?  Where is this coming from?  Did he not get enough sleep?  Why? ......"  

He's starving.

"Dear Lord, what kind of mother am I?  I should have known better.  He needs to eat.  First thing.  He was starving.  The poor boy."   And then I begin rationalizing  and reconciling all of his off character choices for the morning because he had a need.  I just couldn't recognize it.   He had a big giant hole in his tummy and even though he was going through the motions of being a human being and participating in life and our family he was really choking down what he really needed, until it finally got the best of him.  Literally.  The best was there.  I saw it.  And then I witnessed it go away.  It settled for staying in the background and letting the beast come out to solve the problem of facilitating the need.  Compromise a little now to fill the need.  The deep dark hole.  The starving and longing.  

I don't know why it's on my heart to forgive and give grace and search for understanding.   Well, I do, but some days I really don't have the faintest idea where that comes from in me because I am just so rotten and terrible at it.  I witness somebody put their needs before somebody else's and I'll guarantee you that you have never seen a person more disgusted and repulsed then beautiful moi.   And there is no understanding.   When I sense a person's intentions are bad or self serving I can get right down to the business of "protect at all costs . . .leave no survivors to speak of this" in a quick hurry.  No grace.   No, there will be none.  None.  Uh uh.  Ain't happenin'.  Gone from my being.  It might as well be a 100 million dollar grocery store giveaway that they are playing and I can tell you what their odds of winning are.   They're a piece of crap dirtbag and I hope they rot in Hell.  There it is.  The fear.   Wince.  And then, as soon as I think it, or say it, I'm feeling badly.  Feeling like a jerk.  Feeling like I've failed my self.  Failed what I believe in, deep down.  Failed to ask the "Why?" for their sake.   "What would Jesus do Tammy?"   But life is full of contradictions and I certainly posses no shortage of them.  And then I'm thankful for some of that good grace that I have floating around in my bones, because I need some in a quick hurry.  

Lovin is easy.  Lovin who you choose to love.  Lovin when it's easy.  Lovin the beauty.  Lovin on our terms.  Lovin when our expectations are being adhered to.  But is that all there is to love?  Is "that" love?   I've been thinking so much lately about relationships and ones that are damaged, the people that actually exist in those relationships that have suffered, how we are all flawed and how it could be possible that those relationships can still exist in love.  Restoration.  Redemption.  Fear.

I began asking "Why?" and searching for understanding when I was a child.  Like all children innately do.  Like you did.  I assume.  There were some injustices here and there in my life and I didn't get angry so much as I searched for understanding.  Well, unless those injustices affected my brothers and sisters.  But, that's a whole other story.  I saw people in my life and my family at their best and that helped me to reconcile their worst.  If I didn't have understanding I at least had compassion and that was because I had love.  I had love first.  I knew these people for who they were, not expecting any more or any less, and I loved them.    I didn't think of being compensated for any wrong doings.  I knew if they were making some harsh choices that were impacting me and making life a rough go I figured out how to deal with it as best as I could at the time or I'd devise some way to adapt or avoid or escape it.  Life went on.  Some times were harder and that's when I came to know Jesus, The Holy Spirit, because I survived some of those struggles literally knocked down on my knees, silently calling out for help.   He was my lifeline.  Help was sent to me in the form of peace and a very big faith.  In times of hardship, when I needed it the most, those gifts sustained and embodied my soul.  When my Mom would go on a big bender or have a wild drug party I knew that was her method of escape.  It wasn't for me to choose her method any more then I could choose her demons.  And I couldn't save her from herself.  She was starving.  I wished she had the peace I had inside of me.  I wished she had the faith that it would all be okay.  When I was struggling through my life and relationship with my Dad and Step-Mom I lived a life of fear and eventually that severed me from love.  I prayed for relief in any and every form and when it didn't come I was angry and isolated and ugly but still strong enough to somehow not let my soul be defeated.   But I was starving.  My will was enormous and I survived the time I spent with them solely because I made one choice and dedication inside.   "I will not compromise.  No, I will not.  Not today." 

There are lots of effective forms of breaking a person down.   I guess I can be thankful that my Dad and step mom weren't so subtle about the goals they had for me.  So, I kind of knew what to expect.  My step mom used to gloat that she would break me.  "Whatever it takes.  We will break you and make you bow down."  That just made me dig my heals in a little further.  Keep it coming.  I got this.  And what did all of that stem from in them?  Fear.  They didn't get the love they needed along the way.  Parts of it they must've been too afraid to even ask for.  They must've thought nobody would even consider.

I think everybody has a choice.  Well, we have lots of choices.  But we have a decision to make about our not so shiney experiences and we can either choose to fight like the best of the demons coming at us or you can lay down your weapons and surrender and embrace acceptance if you happen to have one of these big huge gaping chasms in your being and find this said space in the light of the day and say, "Well, there that is" and decide to scoop up a little sand and mulch and throw some seeds and sprinkle lots of water into it and hope for the best.   Or you can find it in the pitch black and stumble and fall and spend your life screaming and hollering and cursing "God, damn it!!" trying to get the Hell out, sucking whoever and whatever down into the abyss as you go along.  Or, because I always like having a third option, if you were my buddy Nate, you'd say, "Man, I have a bus and a backhoe and I can have that puppy gone in about two minutes." 

But we all know and meet people walking around with these big holes and we see how they are defined and we let ourselves be defined by those holes and other peoples opinions of them and I think about what I'm going to choose to do about it when I sense a need from someone and their big black hole.  I wonder if I have what it takes to reach out when it counts.  To touch someone and help them.  Someone that presents no appeal to me at all.  Because that's when it really counts.   Could I walk away and deny them the love I know they really, truly need because it's not convenient to me?  Who is that benefiting?  Am I strong enough to bring good into their life so they have a fighting chance at loving themselves?  Will I consider the cost to me before I'm willing to help someone? 

I pick up the bible searching for pat answers to prepare myself and I find it's full of wisdom and advise, but primarily, for me, it's full of a belief.  One in particular.  Jesus' belief and how he carried about putting into practice his belief and instilled a message . . . the message of Love.  And that Jesus guy, he didn't say "Tammy, love when it's easy, sugar.  No big.   Let it just come to ya.  This love gig is cake."  That wasn't exactly the good word he was spreading.  And I'll just continue the paraphrasing, but He said to love the lepers.  The thieves.  The liars.  The dirtbags.  The underdog.  The ugly.  The undesirables.  Something like that.  And I say I don't wanna, a lot.  It's not cozy and comfy.  He spoke of all who needed our love and He spoke of the fear we would have to overcome to be able to love as He taught us to.  And He asked us to do it, especially when it's hard . . . when we don't wanna.  That was His hope.   To love in His name.  That screws my face up and brings some heavy tears to my eyes.  Makes me feel like it's in there, somewhere.  I have that desire and yet I fall short.  I want to beat myself up and put myself on the "discount/closeout" section of humanity for being so awful at doing my one simple job in life.  But that is not my burden.   

So, I believe it starts with loving ourselves.  Without fear.  Loving the ugly you're lugging around.  Then reaching out and helping others to do the same.  But that is easier said then done. For sure. In fact, we learn it's so much easier to do just the opposite.  His work, His creation, His message He left up to us to share and tend and yet, what is it that we teach each other?  

In my relationships I have had times where my love spoke of only love.  The love that I had to give was pure and was for the sake of love.   But I can reflect back on even more time spent in all of my relationships when I know the love spoke about what other people wanted from me or what I needed.  It was about earning, filling somebody else's needs, adhering to demands and terms and conditions and expectations, trying to satisfy pride, seeking approval, control, accepting, maintaining image and appearances, avoiding punishment, enduring and sacrificing, feeling compromised, embracing struggle, finding the purpose in the pain . . . . all with the label of Love stuck on it and somehow feeling a little confused by it all. 

After Camble was born I was so tired of going through the motions to fill obligations I just sat myself down and had a little come to Jesus talk that went a little like, "You know what it is that needs to change.  Doing it is going to be hard.    How about you don't owe anybody anything other than genuine love?  How about you relieve people from your expectations and allow yourself to be relieved of their expectations and just know people for who they are, truly?"   I'll admit, when I wasn't the obliging sort anymore and apparently wasn't willing to be part of some people's compensation strategy they had going for themselves I kinda got put on the outs.  But, my focus was on my family and I needed to grow in ways that helped me to love them truly and deeply and that meant I needed to have enough strength in character to re-evaluate and let some of those surface, self serving, exhausting, drain all of the life out of me relationships go.  I had to come to terms with my empathy.  Because I will take care of you and your pain and everyone else's around me until the cows come home.  And that somehow works for a lot of folks.  Odd.  But part of loving my family well and loving other's genuinely and honestly meant I needed to start with loving myself.  I had to swallow my pride.  I had to be as kind to myself as I would be to you.

So, where is the balance?  Where is the moderation between being A, First Class, #1 and feeding every hungry soul in the entire world?  I'm learning the answers for myself.   It's been an evolution.  Asking myself how I want my children to be loved helped me to know how I needed to be loved and that is powerful medicine.  So, it starts with you.  Right here.   Having a sense for how my short comings impact my children and people around me has helped me grow and seeing them thrive in love has kept the pendulum swinging.   If that is what you can call  balance.  Another part is really not so much caring what you might call it.  With all due respect.  Trust me on that one.  I see my children's faults and I used to want to use all sorts of theories and methods and discipline and teaching techniques to make them go away.  Kidz can have some painful stages.   I was Mama.  I would fix it all.  Well, all of that really proved ineffective.  When nothing would work I'd go for the big guns.   I would sometimes use the wrath of God.  As a parent I was pretty sure I could relate.   I was almost positive God would be angry if he knew they were stealing shiny pencil erasers.   Almost.   Soooooooooo, I was just kind of the messenger passing on the message of "Don't steal erasers or you are going to burn in Hell."  Something like that.  Ugh.  Grace, sincere apologies and sleep (blessed sleep) helped us all survive that little period of life we now loving refer to as "Mommy was delusional."  However well you can pronounce that last word in our house, according to your age and level of articulation.  CRAZY is the short version.   

Love.  Love really is the answer. 

I've tried to maintain an awareness and a safe distance from that sacred part of my children that I understand there might not be any mending done to once the damage has been done.   I have had people in my life who have not been so conscientious.   We have people sitting beside us or walking around out there or sitting in prison cells, some of them self constructed, believing what everybody has told them their entire life.   A society of judgement and yet a system of reform that we initiated based on our desire to rehabilitate folks with institutions that we, as flawed people, facilitate.   But what kind of message are we really sending in all of that?  

Sometimes, the most difficult thing I have had to overcome, as a parent and as a person, is myself.  The judge.  I hate that job.  God, I'm so glad I'm not God.     Calming myself and giving my kidz or someone a place where they are heard and I listen, instead of attacking them with discipline or recoil with judgement and choosing instead to say the words or embody the belief, "I'm sorry you did that.  I don't want you to feel rotten about yourself.  I have love for you." can be so healing.   Not that I'm preaching against teaching any of the " . . . Thou shalt not. . . ."s but when "thou already hast," what are you gonna do about it?  Listening to how crummy your friends or family or anybody feels because they just had to go out and try it for themselves is torturous.  You should try it.  You have no idea how hard it is.  And yet, how rewarding.  What am I saying through my actions? is my confession and conviction.  How close to sharing love in spirit you are when you can reach out in kindness.   

When my children have committed an offense it is very easy for me to turn to the fear of what  the impact of their choices and the reality of facing the consequences might have on them.   But all that translates to them is, "Mom is really pretty scary right now."   Appropriate facial expressions to match.   I don't want them to have to cope with consequences.  I want to protect them from that and put the pain on me for them.  For their sake.  I don't want them to have to even live with the guilt.   I want them to make all of the right choices to avoid the pain of society not loving them.  That is me losing faith.   That is me not loving myself enough to reach out to the next guy and love him too.    Even when he's been a screw up or a dirtbag.   But "somebody" has already put that on themselves for me.  "Somebody" has already done the dirty work for me.  "Somebody" paid for his sins and her sins and . . . . even all of mine.   All I have to do is choose to love.  There, finally my heart is open to it.  So, all I have to do is love.  Truly.  And not for appearances sake. That is the gold.  That is what is going to make you feel good about yourself.  Not buying a big house.  Not taking a vacation in Costa Rica (although that would bring me great joy).  If I've done my job right, I won't be rewarded with pride and praise.  I will not be compensated.  I will have been diligent and accomplished at passing the message along.  I will have raised people that know they're worth loving and they will think you are too.  Period.  No conditions.   So they will be connected.  They will have the promise of One.  I can leave this world with the faith and hope that that message will get them through and help them carry on. 

But this particular morning, as I mentioned, I am with Brazen and he's trying to sort out how to get what he wants because he's lost sight of what he needs.  So, he starts with the negotiations.  He'll clean his room, feed the chickens, . . . . oh wait . . . . he's already done all of that he realizes.  So, I sense him start to get angry.  He's already done a lot.  He's given of himself.  He wants some ice cream and so he starts to point out to me how he's already done A,B, and C and he deserves some ice cream.  And there you have it.  Whoooooa ho ho Buddy!!  The true point I am trying to develop here.  Bare with me.

I watched the movie Sweet Land last year.  The movie is really supposed to be a love story and I understood all of that but what really struck me about the whole movie was one simple point. Olaf, was an immigrant farmer living in Minnesota in the 20's and he had established and sustained himself solely on the income of his crops.   Olaf decides to get a mail order bride from Norway and so begins their story of creating a relationship and a love and a life together where nothing comes easy for them.  What I really admired was that Olaf was resolute in his belief that ". . . banking and farming don't mix" and as the movie illustrated Olaf putting that belief into practice I began to draw a parallel to all of the relationships that exist on just the opposite of this belief.   Banking and loving.   People that become the bank or are willing to bank with their love and they negotiate and sacrifice the sacred and compromise and settle for somebody else giving them what they want, right now, and how they pay for that, in the end with interest.  Who benefits from that and what need does that really serve?

And I was thinking about that point of the movie when Brazen started to get angry with me that morning.  When his negotiations didn't work, he turned to extortion.  No more Mr. Nice Guy.  Apparently we had a contract.  Who knew?  Unfortunately for him, this is probably THEE most ineffective form of intimidation you can use on me anymore.  But, we turned it into a starring match.  I have my eyebrows raised at this point.   Go ahead, badger me with ". . . after all I've done for you . . . ." because all I have to say to that is, "Then, don't do it.  Please.  It says nothing about me and everything about your intentions and what you want to get out of me.  So, save us all the trouble.  Don't."  And he, looking a little powerless, doesn't give up easily.  He starts with the necklace I made for him.  Gone.  It now means nothing.  Worthless trinket.  We're still staring at one another.  Now my arms are folded.  Okay. Where are we going with this? Is this really necessary?

I start to envision this young man, carrying a burdensome suitcase through the desert.  Holding onto all his worldly possessions with a tight grip on the handle, dragging it along behind him.   Some choices and decisions to make here.   Until, fast forwarding through the frames, I see this string of belongings scattered in the wake of his path.  The necklace.  Then the book.  The sweater.  The Pokeman card.  Over the shoulder go the stuffed animals.  The special rocks he was saving for me.  All of those attachments.  Gone.    This is a little process I like to call "Cut the crap." Figuring out what really matters.  And when that suit case it empty what is left?

Love.

So, we come running back to one another.  And probably I gave the kid some ice cream.  After we had the "Do you know what you need buddy?" conversation and he poured himself some cereal and I got over myself a little.  Who am I kidding?  I know he's really not "Big Bad Brazie Boy, The Mob Boss."  And, I'm not a victim. I love the little guy.  I love him enough to not rob him of the experiences of learning how to help participate in taking care of his own needs.  I don't want him to go putting his love on credit.  I don't want him finding somebody and making them compensate for all of the ice cream he missed out on when he was a kid.  Ya know what I mean?  I want him to grow in love and realize he is his own best resource.  I'm also not afraid of putting my big girl pants on and demonstrating that there are some walls you have to bounce off of and pick yourself back up again and when he looks around I'll be there and be able to offer love.

Lucky for Brazen, and very lucky for me, I had my Grampa when I was growing up.  We had an unspoken understanding for one another.   He believed in me and I believed in him.  No matter what.   Between us existed a bond that was unbreakable.   He didn't put his pride on my shoulders to carry.  He was past all of that.  He lightened my heart with his bright smiles, let me listen to all of the stories he cared to tell me and he gave me space to figure things out for myself.  Through his patience, trust and unwavering faith in me I was able to recognize and build on my own innate sense of value.  He wasn't willing to give up on me, no matter what, so I damn sure wasn't going to either.

I'm pretty grateful for my Grampa's love.  When I feel pretty down on myself I am reminded that he thought I was pretty easy to love.   That means something to me.   It makes me smile.  Kinda makes me feel lovable.  I think that would make God smile too.  That's how I hope my kidz feel later on in life.  I hope they know I sure love them, and that it's easy, even when they're rotten.  Everybody needs that.