What I did on my Summer Vacation

Failed vacations: 2
Vacations actually taken: 0
Skin cancer diagnoses: 1
Broken arms: 1
Duration of horrible plague-like coughing disease: 6 weeks
Movies watched by children: WAY too many


I could go on with these, but I thought that I'd leave it at that. The bare statistics from our summer of craptastic-ness are pretty much enough to make me want to go into a hole and not come out. But near the end of the summer, when I got thwarted from trying to plan something "fun" for the fiftieth or so time, I started to get that maybe something else was going on.

I was asked by a lovely, lovely, gentleman in my congregation who endured a horrific tragedy last year if I think that he should just pray to accept what happened as God's will. Biting back my gut response, which was, of course, NO, I listened to him tell the story...I listened HARD, I listened for a long time, and I listened in that way that you have to learn to do even if you're naturally "a good listener" (I'm not, by the way). And when he was done, I told him what I believe, and what I've believed for quite a while now.... Shit happens, and God raises up. Horrible things happen, and somehow, God can bring some hope or goodness out of it. Not right away, not in the way that we want or even expect, but it does happen, little by little. This I believe, and if I did not believe this I would lose all hope.

So, back to my non-tragic yet very depressing summer. I use the word depressing intentionally because near the end of the summer, I started to have actual symptoms of depression. I haven't had to battle with this particular illness as much as many, but enough that I know what's going on. But one day (and my facebook status will prove it!) I started to realize that I was being molded by this whole summer. I was being changed. You can call it whatever you want....God raising up or evil demons ruining my summer, but I was being changed, and for the better.

Instead of reverting to what is almost always my response to hard things, which is to flee the state in some way or at least find something fun to do near home, I had to stay. I HAD to sit still, and stay. And find a way to deal with it that did not involve leaving the building. I think I realized that it was a good thing when I found myself working on math problems with my daughter, who wanted to know fifty times how long until Sesame Street (PS, the WRONG response is "NOT FREAKING SOON ENOUGH!"), and we figured out together how many minutes it was if it was now 8:37 a.m. and SS is at 9 a.m.

It was actually sort of fun.

It was nearly life-changing for me to get this, that if I STAYED then things might be okay. I could bear them. They might actually be sort of fun. This kind of lesson doesn't come around very often, and I almost missed it by trying so desperately to not deal with things as they were....child with broken arm, no pool. Children who were violently carsick, no roadtrip. Mama with no job, spending lots of unwanted time at home. But I did sit, and I did stay, and I did learn that it will be okay, and I CAN do it, and that my lovely children are indeed great blessings when I can sit long enough to appreciate them. "Long enough," by the way, turned out to be an entire summer, and I am still learning.