Ambiguity— that sense of doubtfulness or uncertainty of meaning or intention.
Placing the adjective delicious before ambiguity might seem like an oxymoron. But, I completely understand why Gilda Radner may have written it that way. So often, in our modern, rushed, everything-has-to-be-planned-out culture, we leave no room for surprises. Instead of wide, open space, we cram every nook and cranny of our lives with activities. So unlike the Europeans. Candace noticed this while on her ten day Scandanavian trip. Here, on her sojourn to Sweden, she captured this sidewalk game of bocce (pictured below). When I saw it, it reminded me of my time in Scotland. Cobblestone streets lined with luscious bakeries and sidewalk cafes. Men and women ambling, drinking tea and nibbling on scones. Now that she is in London, she definitely sees a hustle and bustle society, but on the whole, we can learn lessons from our friends in Europe. Slow down. Sip slowly. Seek refuge. Silence the mad rush.
That is where I am today. In great need of rest. My August of Tuesdays has worn me out. I can’t lie. I thought I was handling everything so well, but then my body reminded me of my fraility. My need for Christ. My need for a restorative touch. We weren’t designed to live life at a frenetic pace. But sometimes, for a short season, life throws a busy time our way. And no matter how hard we try, the stress finally overcomes. As a wise woman once told me, “It’s not about a balanced life, it is about a balanced lifetime.” Don’t you love that? So, tonight, as I sit here in my quiet house, on this last Tuesday of my August of Tuesdays, I breathe in some balance. Breathe in rest, respose and restoration. No bags need to be packed. No clothes need to be washed. No farewells are on the horizon. All the birds have checked in and Momma Bird is resting. Resting beside Papa Bird. Resting under the shadow of God’s wing and praying Psalm 63: 6-8:
“On my bed I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.
Because you are my help,
I sing in the shadow of your wings.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.”
Thank you, dear friends, for listening to my heart these past few weeks. I know a million other women have faced the empty nest, but this is my first time. Perhaps you have found solace in my musings. I pray so. If you have any encouragement, any thoughts, any wise words. . .would you share them with us? And, if you are facing change, challenge or crisis. . .cling to God. He will uphold you. He will undergird you. He will uplight you.
P.S. A few nights before Grant left, he was out cutting the grass, finishing up his errands. He ran in, asked me for a paper towel, and told me to come outside. There, on the ground by our back fence, was an empty bird’s nest. As I looked around the nest, I noticed one small, oval egg. Then, a few inches away, was another little egg. Two eggs. Grant gently picked the eggs up, one by one, with the paper towel, placing them back in the nest. As he placed the nest back into the crook of a tree branch, it dawned on me. What incredible symbolism. Of course, I called Rob over to the amazing scene. Being the writer that I am, sometimes I get a bit carried away by symbolism, etc., but this time, I think God was giving us a beautiful visual of the work
going on in our family. What I loved most about this moment, was the gentleness of my son towards these eggs. His lanky fingers gingerly caring for these two eggs.
I had a moment, yes, I had a moment. And in that moment, I quietly thanked God.
Dear Janell,
Each one of us who know you has had the delight of standing with you during this time. You have walked through some high waters, and only God knows what is on the other side. Uncertain of intention? No, not for God. For He, and He alone, has parted the waters, and has given you dry land. He created it all, including this very trial. From what I can see, except for a few wet tears, you are on higher ground……no wave has overcome you. Turn around and look back from where you came. Build your stones of remembrance. Now, look forward….your vision is still intact. Eternity is set in your heart, and God is preparing the way, yet again.
As to Grant? He offered the little fragile eggs the same tenderness that he received from you. That is the part of Mom that we all hope becomes a part of our son’s lives. Bless you for the example…his future wife will rise up and call you blessed!
As always, I am your friend,
Sherri
Dear, dear Sherri! Thank you for delighting in standing with me. What a beautiful picture of deep, abiding friendship. Delighting to stand with, next to, side-by-side. It evokes the image of two little girls, standing arm in arm. Locked in friendship. Ready for anything and everything. Let’s continue to lock arms as we do kingdom business. The Lord has been really speaking those two words to me lately. . .kindgom business. I read it somewhere (I am looking for that inspirational source) and it has nestled into my spirit. Kingdom business. That is what we are called to be doing. I love you, dear friend.
Congratulations! You’ve delivered a beautiful family! Thank you so, SO much for creating a road-map for the rest of us to follow. Our paths are unique but we share the same destination. Janell, I find your example especially poignant for me since we have a similar background. To see God bring you through that, to see the precious fruits of all your labor and tears, shows me that I, too, can put the hurt and heartbreak behind me and, through Christ, create the wholeness that I never had.
Adjusting to an empty nest must be hard, but its normal! Isn’t that wonderful? (YEAH normal!) When I graduated high school, I left the next day and never looked back. I spent the summer traveling with a drum & bugle corps. By the time that was over, I was already late for New Cadet Week at VT. Had time to do laundry and leave. Mom had 20 minutes to throw my stuff in the dorm and I was off. And good riddance, too, I felt. I couldn’t wait to be gone and done with the whole mess of my “family” life. My sister, in contrast, has never found the strength to leave and at almost 30 years old, still lives with mom, incapacitated. Never given the tools she needed to feel whole enough to make it on her own.
Janell, apart from Christ Himself, you are my shining light in a dark wilderness. Thanks for showing us the way through.