2020 Heartache

I’ve sat down to write this post several times. It’s hard to sum up 2020 and then turn to 2021 when a lot of what occurred last year is still at the forefront of my mind and heart. But then I remembered this. Back in October, I wrote a poem expressing my observations and angst about what 2020 looked like from this American’s view. I’m not a poet by any stretch but I do like to dabble in it. So, here it goes: 2020 Heartache

“Happy new year!” We shouted with glee. “This will be the best year for me.”

Whoa, the world’s warning, something’s coming our way. It’s a hoax, a scam. Now, move on with your day.

Doctors and nurses are risking their lives. But at the same time, we won’t empathize.

Sickness and death caught us deep in its snare. “Yeah, right. It’s just the vulnerable, so why do we care?”

“What about our rights?” People like to ask. It seems freedom only matters when it comes to a mask.

And then…I Can’t Breathe…

So we marched for all to be treated the same. But another month went by and we forgot his name.

“All lives matter”, we’ve been told to say. But does that include the weak, refugee, and gay?

“What about babies in the womb?”, we type in our feed. Yes, of course, but there’s still caged babies in need.

Parents are struggling, and kids are, too. We’re trying to adapt to this tiresome new.

Small businesses have had to shut their door, while big corporations seem to grab so much more.

We spit and shout and show little grace, but would you do that to me if we were face to face?

There’s left and right, both with lies to be told. Each day that passes, the gossip gets old.

Stories are weaved that should cause us to break, but when truth won’t serve us, we call it fake.

We preach kindness and compassion as a way to heal, but when our tongues lash out, both lose their appeal.

“Don’t live in fear”, so many have said. Why would we say that with so many dead?

If 2020 has done anything well. It’s ripped off the veil and cracked open our shell.

Don’t lose attention and expect a turn. Have we gone all year with nothing to learn?

America the beautiful, a memorable song, but this year we sure have gotten it wrong.

The pursuit of liberty is this nation’s goal. But does it really matter if we’ve lost touch with our soul?

My homeland, my country, that shining city on a hill. Truth be told, my heart aches for you, still.

Friends, One thing I keep coming back to is this. Even though we experienced 2020 heartache, and struggle with what’s going in the world, we need to remember that Jesus already overcame it. I wish you peace in this New Year.

Comparison

As I was standing in front of the mirror this morning examining what I call my “Road Maps of Experience”, aka wrinkles, this quote from Theodore Roosevelt came to my mind:

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

– Theodore Roosevelt

Thinking back from the past few months of the end of 2013 to the end of 2014, I realized that I have been walking rather slowly through that awful valley of comparison. 2014 had some wonderful and joyful moments, but in a lot of ways it was filled with some “what if’s”, “why’s”, and “I wish”.

As I finished scouring over my face, threw on some make-up, and got ready for the work day, I found myself feeling determined and excited about this new year of 2015.

Do I know what is in store? No.

Am I guaranteed that everything is going to be just fine? No.

At the end of 2015, will I be able to say it was a “good year”?

I don’t know.

However, I have decided that I’m done with the valley of comparison. I’ve traversed it, and honestly, it is not a pretty place to be.

Instead, I want to walk along the mountain top ridges of cherishing the unique person I am, the life I live, and the dynamic qualities (both challenging and amazing) that make up my family’s life.

Have you been visiting that self-defeating place of comparison?

If so, let’s all look to 2015 with excitement, hope, and faith to explore the landscape to which the Lord has set your feet upon!

New Year’s Road

Taken with my iphone as I rode my bike in a 150 mile ride.

This past year was one full of discovery for me.  Through blogging, I have been reminded that everyone truly has a story to tell.  We are all story-tellers in our own ways.  Art, in its purest form, also speaks volumes of insight and revelations about the world we are living in.  Some speak through poetic ramblings and short-stories.  For others, the lens of a camera captures images that their eyes first took notice of.  Each photograph tells a story.  Writing really has become my therapeutic release, my story-teller, my window to the world, my humbling remembrance of how blessed I am, and an extension of the yearning to live out my faith in Christ.

I continue to learn that  parenting is an art form.  Like most artists, parents don’t just figure it out with one stroke of a brush.  Mistakes are made, and often, we are our own worst critics,  Parenting is also something that love and passion is poured into.  I have yet to meet an artist who is not passionate about his or her masterpieces.  Children are the masterpiece that we are always working on, and for that, I am grateful for “do-overs”, grace, and the simplistic forgiveness of children.

Throughout this year,I have been made keenly aware of the tightrope we all walk when it comes to protecting children in our own backyards, and around the world.  Not to sound cliché, but they really are our greatest resource for the future.  Through this blog, I have been able to express my deepest desires for my children, and for others as well.  I have also been able to connect to the child I once was.

I began this road of writing because I felt I had a story to tell.  I felt I needed to speak of infertility.  I knew there were others out there suffering from the sadness that comes when the desire for children is not fulfilled.  I also felt that my story of barrenness includes the incredible journey that is adoptive parenting.  I may stray from time to time from the topic of infertility with the posts I write, but it is never too far from my thoughts and my heart.  I am deeply compassionate about others who continue to search for answers, and who live daily with the unfulfilled longing for children.  I hope my words will encourage each of them to believe in joyful beginnings and happy endings.

I am not sure what the Lord has in store for the road I will walk in 2013.  Will I be inspired to venture into other areas of writing?  Will there be heartbreak and heart-joy in this next year?  Will some doors open while others shut?  There is no way to tell what is destined to happen, but my faith in the Script-Writer of our lives is greater than the unknowns of the future.

May this New Year’s Road lead you all to delightful discoveries, faith-building experiences, and life-affirming moments that bless your sojourn in the world.