Finding Good

Overwhelmed.  That is the one word I can use to describe the last 13 days of my life.  The whole ordeal of September 14th has begun to take on shades of haze in my mind...for this I am thankful.

This experience has been much more difficult to "get over" than I thought it would be.  However, the one thing that has continued to occur is the overwhelming outpouring of love and support from family, friends, friends of friends and even strangers.  I have already seen a number of miracles derived from the situation.  This makes me smile.

To all of you who have sent me messages, said prayers, and asked me how I am doing...thank you.  I have been reminded through all of this of how good people can be.  Funny, huh?  You would think it would be the opposite.

I had a hard week last week.  Every morning was filled with tears.  In a matter of seconds this man stole more from me than my precious wedding ring. 

You see, I have always been someone who wants to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.  It is not uncommon for me to say, "Something bad probably happened in his childhood!" when talking about a cantankerous fellow.  (I just really like to use the word cantankerous.)  Anyway, the point is that I really do want to find the potential for good in people.  But, when this young man did what he did, he stole this from me.

Ever since I had a gun pointed at me I see people differently.  I find myself suspicious, hyper-vigilant and even profiling those that pass me.  I hate it...really, I abhor it.  My stomach turns and I feel this combination of fear, guilt and anxiety.  I think it's giving me wrinkles...or that could just be motherhood.

What does this mean for me?  I'm not sure.  People keep asking how I am doing and I often respond with a smile and, "I'm doing really well!"  And truly, I'm trying to live there.  I really want to be well.  But, there is a piece of me that needs restoring. 

So, tonight, as my house sleeps and I am still awake, I am praying. 

I am praying for the "young man."  (That's what I call him.)  I am praying that one day he will know compassion.  He will know it because he is finally capable of feeling it for someone else and that someone might extend it to him. 

I am praying for me.  I am praying that this piece of me will be restored, renewed.  I am praying that I will have the courage to run errands with my kids again.  I am praying that I will see people the way God sees them...I would really like that.

I am also thankful. 

Thank you God for pouring your love on me through so many these last two weeks.  Thank you for using this experience to draw people closer to you.  Thank you for you faithfulness.

I re-read my last post today and decided to watch Pollyanna.  It's been a while since I've popped it in the DVD player.  I was folding laundry and had two sleeping babies...perfection.  At the end of the movie Pollyanna is paralyzed from a fall out of a tree.  She is supposed to go to Baltimore (Woot! Woot! The homeland!(I was born there.))  for an operation.  The doc is worried because she finds her glad-self in a deep depression...she can't find anything to be glad about.  Then the entire town comes to visit her with gifts and words of encouragement and love.  As the cheese meter goes through the roof my eyes fill with tears.

It reminded me of my last two weeks.  People loved me.  They brought me homemade bread and cookies.  They called.  They came over.  They brought me soy Frappuccinos from Starbucks.  The told jokes.  They told their own stories of invasion and injustice.  They prayed.  Some mornings I really did find a numbness creeping in and the gladness seeping out.  It was these acts of kindness, the conversations, the listening ears that helped to restore my smile.

For this I am thankful.  It fills me.  It reminds me of the potential for good.  One person almost shattered that completely for me but hundreds are reminding me of it daily.

As my house sleeps and I am awake, I am smiling, knowing that God's goodness is flowing from his creation and encouraging me.  I am smiling knowing that I am loved.


Thank you family, thank you friends, thank you friends of friend and thank you strangers...as the reverend in Pollyanna says, "We looked for the good in them, and we found it."

The Glad Game

I love the movie Pollyanna.  I think it is one of those really good movies that you can let your kids watch and not worry one bit about it.  I know that the cheese factor is high but I'm a sucker for cheese.  The more cheese the better if you ask me.  And, these days, since I can't eat cheese due to the Little Man's tummy the movie kind of cheese seems to curb my craving.

One of the reasons I love this movie so much is because Pollyanna and I seem to have a similar approach to life.  Rather than wallowing in circumstances Pollyanna chooses to, "play the glad game," and find something to be glad about.

This week was one where I had to make myself choose to be a Pollyanna.  I just had to find something to be glad about.  It was a week I will never forget but my hope is that rather than remember the trauma I will remember the God encounter and be glad.

On Wednesday, around 12:50pm in a Target parking lot, with my two sweet babies a man approached me with a gun while I was buckling The Bug in her seat.  He pointed it at me and told me to give him my ring.  I gave him my silver ring first.  He didn't like that one.  He asked if I had a purse.  I lied.  I threw my wedding ring at him and he ran and got in a get away car.

It was scary.  I called 911 and practically parked in Target.  I was right in the front.  I wanted to make a huge scene in case he wasn't happy with what he found and came back.  The police came.  I gave a report.  They dusted my car for finger prints. 

As I pulled out of the parking lot after everything was over, I cried out to God.  I was mad.  Who thinks they have the right to pull a gun out anyway near my children.  It was an injustice and that fires up my soul.  I cried out to God and first prayed for justice.  I want the man to know what he did was wrong.  Second, I asked God to draw near this young man.  I want to see his face again...in heaven one day.  I played through in my mind what a person must have gone through as a child, a teenager,  and young adult to do what he did.  I told my mom, "You shouldn't feel sorry for me.  He's the one you should feel sorry for."

I came home and took a shower...a long one.  I replayed the horrific experience moment by moment in my head.  I cried a lot.  It was the sobbing cry that comes from that deep gut-wrenching place...the one you save for when you are by yourself and in the most desperate of places. 

I told God that I didn't want to live in fear.  I want to be able to take my kids places and not think everyone is going to attack us.  I begged him to show me where His angels were during the whole experience.  Jesus where were you?

Now for those of you that don't share my faith, this next part may sound crazy.  Even if you do share my faith you may still think I'm crazy.  That's fine.  You can call me crazy and I don't take any offense.

I closed my eyes and saw a picture of my car and I saw angels.  Well, if I'm honest I saw lots of wings that were kind of see-through and iridescent and gold all at the same time.  They were covering my children.  They were all around my car.  I saw Jesus standing right behind me...really big...much bigger than me and the car.

It was this moment in the shower that I knew I had something to be glad about.  I went through the rest of the day trying really hard to focus on the miracle that took place rather than the horrendous experience...No one was harmed, my kids were okay and all he took were my rings. 

As if this wasn't enough for one week, the next day was the day that The Fly had his last procedure to determine if there was any cancer in his bladder.  A while ago some test results came back that led us through a slew of tests and procedures to rule out cancer.  The poor guy had to go through the worst one this last Thursday.  That morning when I got out of bed I knew I had two choices.  Wallow or be glad.  I decided to choose glad.  I began to focus again on the miracles every time an image of the day before would enter my head...which let me tell you was often.  And again, I prayed.  I prayed for peace for my husband and I prayed that no matter the outcome we would be able to find something to be glad about.

He called me around lunch time and gave me the great news.  No cancer!  The procedure was torture but he was glad...no cancer.  


Later that day I spoke to dear friend who prayed for me and also helped me see the miracles in the circumstances that surrounded me. I realized that I had so much to be glad about after I got off the phone with her...from the test results to God's protection over my babies and me. 

With all this said, I'm not naive.  I know that Pollyanna gets a bad wrap sometimes.  I know the reality of what happened to me more than anyone.  I see the gun in fleeting thoughts all day long.  I see this young man's face and hear his voice constantly through my stream of consciousness.  I don't like it.  When I go outside I am leery of men.  I don't like that.  I keep saying I want to be normal again.  (Not that I was very normal before...but you know what I mean.)

I know that getting past this ordeal will take time but in that time I am choosing glad. 

We took the kids to Disneyland last night to celebrate the miracles of our week.  We chose glad.  And every time The Fly put his hand on the small of my back I knew he was choosing glad too.  He was glad we were safe.  He was glad there was no cancer.  We were glad that we got to ride the Ariel ride we our Bug and Little Man.  We were glad we got to share corn dogs.  We were glad as we held hands on the ride home and the Little Man slept as the Bug serenaded us with the ABC song.

Bad  things happen.  There are lots of people out there that are hurting enough to do desperate and mean things.  Like I told my mom, don't feel sorry for us.  We are the blessed ones.  We were protected by the creator of the universe.  Instead, pray for the guy if you are the praying type.  I'm praying.  Who knows what will happen?  What was meant to harm can always be used for good because my God is greater.

Genesis 50:20
"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."

 

 

Like a Good Neighbor

Cul-de-sacs are awesome.  My cul-de-sac is full of awesome.  This summer has shown me, even more, just how blessed I am to live where I live. 

First, let's just focus on the parabola of fun.  That's what I like to call our u-shaped street.  We have the privilege of living on a street, and in a neighborhood, as a matter of fact, with a zillion kiddos.   They are everywhere.  If you don't watch where you are walking you are likely to trip over one.  The Bug likes to refer to every kid in the neighborhood as "her friends."  When we hear kids playing outside she looks up at me with shining, smiling eyes and says, "Mommy!!! My friends!" even if she has never met them.  I have a feeling as she gets older they will all be "her friends."  She seems to be little bit of social butterfly.

The Bug and "HER FRIENDS" jumping off walls...don't judge, you jumped off walls as a kid too.

The best thing about our neighborhood though is not just the kiddos but the kiddos that live on our street have awesome parents that have become "my friends!"  It's true.  If I need to borrow an egg, or even drop my children off somewhere, I have at least four options right out my front door. 

This last weekend sealed the deal for me. 

We and two other families that live on our "Parabola of Fun"  decided to take a trip to Laughlin, NV.  Two of us have boats so we set out for a wet, and fun-filled adventure.

The Fly and The Little Man at Breakfast.  Holding the baby keeps you skinny...it's harder to eat.

This is how a two year old stays entertained in a restaurant.  Towers.

The whole lot of us.  Adults totally outnumbered.

The Fly and one of our neighbors also one of my great friends!  That's the Little Man and his buddy in their arms.

Zoie's best buddy and her daddy.

Where Little Man napped.  He was continuously misted and put to sleep by the lapping water...until the lapping water woke him up.

The Bug on vacation.  She said, "I relaxin'"

Fly and Little Man going for a swim.  Don't you love his hat?  The ring isn't too bad either.

 This weekend was full of water, boats, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, happy kids, crying kids and load of memories.  This weekend I remembered to stop and look at my kids and take in the moments. 

I will never forget the Little Man smiling as I held him sitting in the beach chair under the easy-up as he splashed his little feet in the baby size waves.

I will never forget The Bug having a few  "accidents" and when The Fly asked her why she was not using the potty she simply replied, "Because I'm on vacation."  (As aggravating as this was I still couldn't help but laugh at that!)

I will never forget stopping at in 'n out in Barstow on the way to Laughlin and taking over the back corner with our excited and loud children.

I will never forget The Fly and the look on his face as he was wake boarding on seriously smooth water...he could see his reflection and he was so happy:).

I especially won't forget the conversations and good company of wonderful people I get to call my neighbors.

As I was rocking my Little Man tonight, waiting to get him to calm down so I could finish typing, I realized that this weekend marked the 4 year anniversary of us moving into our home.  I smiled.  What a great way to celebrate.  I didn't know what blessings awaited me in this neighborhood, in this cul-de-sac. 

If you are my neighbor and by some chance you read this please know that I am thankful for you.  I am thankful that I can come and borrow an egg.  I am thankful that you care about my kids.  I am thankful that in this season of life we can all grow together and learn from each other. 

I look forward to many more trick-or-treat nights, many more Christmas lights, many more birthday parties, many more haphazard play dates, and many more summer nights in our front yards. 

A huge lesson I've learned in my almost 30 years is that community is important.  Life is far better when you do life WITH people...I'm so happy to do life with the people who live on my street.

Tonight I want to thank God for my home, but more importantly, for the people who live next door, across the street, across the other street, and a few doors down.  The things of this world will fade someday.  My house may not always be standing or we may find ourselves in another place in another season but I will always be thankful for those people I get to call my neighbors.

Good friends jump off walls together.