Balancing

"If you do right and suffer for it and are patient beneath blows, God is well pleased" I Peter 2:19

Lately it has seemed like I have been under a weight of many emotional "blows". The circumstances currently surrounding my family, while not entailing physical suffering, have caused me a lot of emotional pain. Instead of being patient as these verses in I Peter exhort, I have found myself trying to fix some of the practical problems my two oldest children are experiencing due to the unexpected pregnancies.

After my husband called me on the fact that I had actually applied for two jobs FOR my son, I realized there is a strong correlation between my lack of patience and this sometimes invasive desire to fix their situations.

Later in the second chapter of I Peter, he goes on to say that suffering is a part of life here on earth and that we are to strive to respond to these sufferings as Christ did, specifically He "left his case in the hands of God." Lately, due to my worry an anxiety, it has not been easy for me to leave my children's "case" in God's hands.

I struggle with identifying the appropriate boundaries. When are my suggestions crossing the line to trying to control or fix? Is it okay to send job postings to my unemployed son who will soon have a child to support? Is it okay to look for job training opportunities for my son even when he has no interest? It is okay to send housing options to my daughter and suggest she might want to find a home for the dog that is limiting her choices?

Having appropriate boundaries may have a lot to do with leaving their "cases" in God's hands and removing my hands. Managing these boundaries seems kind of like walking on a balance beam - it is challenging not to fall on the side of too controlling and invasive OR on the side of or not providing needed help and parental instruction. I guess the only way to learn to stay in the middle of the beam is to practice and realize I am going to fall off until I get the right rhythm.

George(iana) Bailey of Aptos

A personal Christmas tradition that I have kept for the last 15 years is the annual watching of It's a Wonderful Life. The kids used to sit and watch with me, but they have lost interest over the years. Now they just sit by me at the end of the movie, carefully watching to see when I will start crying. I am not sure why they think it will ever be any different. Whenever I see all of the people crowding in George Bailey's house to help a friend in need, the tears start to flow. By the time George's brother makes his toast, "To my brother, the richest man in town", my face is covered in tears and my nose resembles Rudolph.

I finally realized why I remain so deeply touched by that movie, even after watching it dozens of times. I identify with George Bailey. I was never going to stay in Santa Cruz. I was going to go away to college, be a book editor in New York City, travel the world and live a sophisticated life. Unlike George Bailey, my continued residence in Santa Cruz, less than exciting career and reasons for being "stuck" are a result of my own choices. Nevertheless there are times when I feel like I missed out on a part of life that I had hoped to experience. Also like George there are times when I am resentful of the emotional ties that keep me here, and do not see the value or purpose of my life. Thus my identification with George Bailey.

Over the past month I have been dealing with some devastating news regarding my two oldest children. I wrote a cryptic note on Facebook about "hanging onto hope by a thin thread." Not only were there multiple encouraging comments, but at least a half a dozen people emailed or called me to to see if there was any way they could support me - not even knowing the situation. Relatives that I do not feel terribly close to sent me encouraging notes and links to sermons they thought would help. It was just like the last scene in the movie where people don't even know what's wrong with George, but they step in and do whatever they can to help a friend in trouble.


Like George I never knew that I was really that important to anyone outside my immediate family. I thought I had to figure out how to to fix my problems on my own. The outpouring of love and support that my friends have shown me through messages, phone calls, gifts, IM conversations and coffee dates has really shown me that despite the unexpected and painful situation, I really do have wonderful life.

Quote of the Day

"So often the really huge moments [of life] come as a shock, a tsunami on a sunny day. It is rare to be given fair notice that the world you've built is about to change."
Luanne Rice