The Better Half of a Hypocrite's Life

I've learned to tell this story with great gusto and enthusiasm.  It usually buys me about ten minutes of absolute silence of a room full of ninth grade swooning girls and wide-eyed ninth grade boys who are eager to find fodder to tease their Bible teacher (Justin) with.

It usually starts with, "Do you want to hear the story how Mr. Benson and I started dating?" and ends with a five minute lecture of how MOST people don't end up marrying the person they date in ninth grade, so "don't date until you're 30, kids!"

It started at a friend's Superbowl party, where I happened to sit next to Justin.  I couldn't tell you who won, or who was even playing (he probably could, including the score).  All I know is we talked the entire game.  He was trying to "teach" me all about football, although, no real learning occurred, because honestly, I still don't quite understand it, or how people can watch 5 seconds of a game followed by five minutes of setting up for another play......anyway.  We also talked about how he was thinking about getting back together with his ex-girlfriend that he used to date in 8th grade, and I talked him out of it. *Yay, me!*  I didn't think much of the conversation, only that I didn't mind watching a football game sitting next to him.

The next day at school, my best friend grabbed me by the wrist and shuttled me to the bathroom after lunch.  "I need to tell you something."  She was almost jumping-up-and-down giddy."I'm not supposed to tell you, so you have to pretend you don't know, ok?"
I nodded.  "What is it?!?!"
"Okay, but you can't say ANYTHING. k?  Justin.  Benson.  LIKES YOU!!!!"
"Really?"  I was half excited- half nervous.  She blurted out how much he enjoyed talking with me at the party, and how he wanted to ask me out, but didn't know if I liked him too.  I instantly did.  Ninth grade girls are like that.

The next week was TORTURE.  Justin sat next to me in art class, and he would sharpen my pencils and throw the shavings at me, and I would yell at him, pretending to be annoyed.  I just had to giggle and pretend to not know what I knew.

That Friday, we had a basketball game in Delaware, which was about an hour and a half bus ride away.  After the JV game that Justin played in and the girls varsity game, we were sitting on the bleachers watching the boys varsity game.  My best friend sat in between us.  They were mumbling back and forth the first half of the game, concocting a plan.  I stared forward pretending not to try to listen or know what they were plotting.  After half time, my friend and I switched places.

"Um......I wanted to ask you a question..." Justin blurted out, mumbling.
"Okay?" I just looked forward, pretending not to be too interested.
"I was wondering if you would go out with me?"  he asked nervously.
"What did you say?" I looked at him.  I heard him completely.  I just wanted to make him ask again, because I'm mean like that.
"I wanted to ask you if you would go out with me." he said again, louder and a little more confidently.
"Oh.  Well....let me pray about it and tell you on Monday."  I said, wanting him to think I was worth waiting for.

  He leaned back. I leaned forward. My friend leaned back.

"What did she say?" my friend mouthed to him.
"MONDAY!" he mouthed back, brow furrowed, annoyed.

AREN'T I CRUEL!?!?  (not as cruel as he was...just wait...)

After the game, the bleachers cleared, and in the shuffle of people I found him.

"Okay.  I thought about it.  Yes."

It was 8:27 p.m.  New Castle, Delaware.  January 31st, 1997.  Fifteen year old girls remember these kinds of things.

On the ride home, the boys sat in the front of the bus and the girls sat in the back.  I suppose we could have tried to sit together, but honestly, I didn't think about trying to break any rules.  When we got on the bus, my friend announced to everyone as loud as she could, "JUSTIN AND MEGAN ARE GOING OUT!"  I was mortified.  I was happy to be slumped in the back of the bus where no one could ask me any questions.

When the ride was over, someone told me that Justin sat with the boys manager the whole time- a girl, who happened to have a huge crush on him.  She even rested her head on his shoulder!  (breaking the Pilgrim Academy 6 inch rule!)  I'm surprised our relationship lasted a whole night.
 "What was I supposed to do!?!?" he asked me when I found out. "She said she was tired."
"Ummmm....not let her rest her head on your shoulder? and tell her that you had a GIRLFRIEND the last hour who you weren't sitting with?!?!"  I said...forgiving him quickly.  Because honestly, he was just too cute and I really really wanted a boyfriend.

Today marks the 15th anniversary of that day.  I've been dating Justin Benson for HALF of my life.

graduation night....no more 6 inch rule!  ;o)

"Dating for 7 1/2 years before you get married isn't fun, kids.  Don't start dating someone when you're fifteen." ...but really, I'm glad I did.  This latter half of my life was way better than the first!     

Tangible Reminders

The day started out pleasant enough.  Pj's till noon.  Whole wheat chocolate chip peanut butter pancakes drizzled with butter and syrup.  Molly telling me her new sweatshirt was "so swarm and nuggily." A walk to Gramby and Pop Pop's, my littles cozied up in the stroller.  Sadie smiling and smiling and smiling like she always does.  I love little moments like these.  They make the pendulum swing to grateful and seem like it should always be stuck there.

But back in the corners of my mind is that soft, bruised place that I try to avoid.  The voice that wants to tell me, "Remember this time last year?  You had better savor it.  It's the last time you'll be able to say 'this time last year, he was here.'"  I shove those thoughts aside and pray that God would redeem this day for me- to make it count for something other than sadness.

When I finally surrendered to getting ready for the day and went upstairs to get dressed, my thoughts turned to a ring I used to wear that I honestly haven't thought about in months.  It was our ring.  Josiah's and mine.  The ring represented the little string that connected Josiah and me to the truth of God's plan.  The word HOPE.  When we first had Josiah placed in our home, I took these pictures with him wearing it.

And the day he left, I took this one:

  

Every time I would look down at my ring, the verse in my head would speak the truth to my heart and tell me that God has a plan and purpose.  He will not forsake me or Josiah.  He knows what He is doing.

Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD.  Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  

I wrote the verse in the Bible we sent along in his going-home box, so the truth of it might penetrate Josiah's heart one day.

*warning, you may not want to make this photo bigger and read this if you're a little teary....it will most like you send you over the edge*

Unfortunately, my fingers swelled during pregnancy and I put the ring away in my jewelry box.

This morning when I remembered the photos and the ring, I was so excited and eager to wear it again.  I told God, "When I look down at that word, I'll remember Your promise, and I'll remember to pray for Josiah to find the plan you want him to."  I slipped it onto my finger, eager for it to find its former home again.  I felt my finger defy my endeavor.  Swollen.

Disgruntled, I shoved my ring back into the jewelry box.  I walked away mumbling to myself, "I shouldn't have put so much salt in the pot roast last night.  I'm not eating any more salt.  Ever."  I stomped out of the room like a surly 2 year old, thinking that maybe God didn't want me to have a tangible reminder of Josiah.  It may do my heart more harm than good.

The rest of the day was quiet and peaceful.  Justin met with our pastor and his wife this afternoon while I stayed home to supervise my happy nappers.

After dinner, Justin told me that he just remembered the pastor's wife wanted him to give something to me.  He went to his car and retrieved a little brown box.

Inside was a necklace. 

                                       

A new necklace with a new word.  heavenward. I almost cried when I saw it.  The little pearl echoed the meaning of my name.  Megan: a pearl.  The engraved word spoke the truth of this verse:   

"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do; Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."  

Philippians 3:12-14

Perhaps my thoughts need to not be on an earthly plan, hoping for a good future for Josiah or for me.  God's picture is much bigger than that.  The word offers a directional course, a turning away from the old, and straining toward what is ahead.  The prize is not holding onto my children forever or hoping that everything will turn out favorably for me or for them.  The prize is Jesus Himself.

Because of what Jesus has done, He has called us heavenward.  The goal is to live with heaven in mind, and inspire others to do the same.  

Suddenly I don't feel the need to worry about eating too much salt.          

This time last year...

This time last year, Josiah was still here.  I was dancing victory dances in my living room for winning the evil bedbug debate.  I was packing his things trying to savor sweet moments through tears and taking pictures of him wrestling with his daddy, who was home with us because God gave us a special snow day so we could be all be together one last time.  

Forgive me for picking at scabs.  The calendar makes it impossible not to.

While his departure happened so quickly on January 28th, 2011, it has taken months and months for him to really be gone.  Little shoes found in closets, pictures on the wall, the stain on the carpet from his juice he spilt that I was so reluctant to clean, his little voice I could still hear after he left.  He lingered here for so long. It is the most difficult thing to balance grief and gratefulness.  The pendulum still continues to swing a year later.

I have Josiah one-year-old birthday picture on my refrigerator.  Just when I thought I was ready to take it down, Molly found it in a drawer and put it back up.  So every time I see it, this is the conversation that ensues:

"I miss him," the empty place in my heart groans though no words come out.

"I know," He speaks back to the empty place.

"You make all things beautiful in Your time."  I say it to remind Him, but as soon as I speak the words in my heart, I think it's Him reminding me.

"I do.  I will.  I AM." He says like light piercing darkness.

It used to hurt like a punch in the gut that would take my breath away.  Most of the time now though, it feels more like hitting my funny bone, like my body saying, "hey, remember you have an elbow?"  I can control when and where I let it happen.  Mostly, I let it happen here.  So thank you, patient, encouraging reader for letting me air my grief.  I know when to knock that place it so I can remember it, feel it, rub it, let God console me, and let Him tell me how He has created all things for His purpose and in His time.          

I was re-reading my friend Jen's post a year after her little girl went to Heaven, and so many things she said resonate with me.  

"A year is no time.  A year is so much time."

Oh it's so true!  How can a year both linger painfully long and still feel like warp speed ahead?!?!  It must be the pendulum effect.  Grief and gratefulness.  One slows time.  One propels it.  With one you are in the arms of the shepherd, the other, you're enjoying the grass.  This year I've learned how sweet both times can be!

The anniversary of Josiah leaving our home and finding another is sad because I remember all those difficult details about the box we packed, saying goodbye, crying, and crying, and crying....but I also feel like it's a stake in the ground.

Like Jen said in her post, "I just want the 28th to come and go so I can look and say, “I made it through a year. I can make it through another one.”


We made it through one year without him- every season, every birthday, every holiday-  we can make it through another and another and another.  


God was good that day Josiah left.  He has been good since.  He will be good still.   

The New Playroom

I always wanted to have a playroom in my house- a deliberate space away from the television where my kids could make creative messes and not feel the need to clean up if they weren't done with a project.  There is a small room in between my guest room and dining room that we used to call the "foyer" (a place to store strollers and other junk that I didn't have a home for.)  I spent a lot of time on pinterest, Amazon, and target.com before I found all of the pieces that I wanted to make it complete....and here it is!

Here's a before shot...

I used some left-over paint from a large mural project and painted it blue.  Here's a shot before you walk into the room.  This is Sadie's favorite spot.  My sister, Amy made that lovely bunting.  I think it says "it is fun in here" before you walk in.

A little corner for the kitchen...  

I painted some trompe l'oeil frames on the wall for Sadie and Molly's masterpieces to hang.   

We're on a snowman kick at the moment.  

Below the "frames" I painted a brown chalkboard wall.  Did you know chalkboard paint comes in different colors?  

This has got to be my favorite part.  These animal cubes are from Target and target.com.  I was contemplating putting pictures of things that go on the cubes on the fronts, but then I didn't want to have to bother with switching toys and getting more toys in the future, etc. 

These little guys have magnetic strips on the inside of their mouths on the bottom of the nylon mesh,  so Molly can "feed" each cube.  The lion only eats cars, the shark eats blocks, the frog eats balls, the hippo cube has all girly accessories, etc.  If the animal doesn't like what it eats, it spits it out. When they're all full, Molly likes to put each one in their homes and kisses them all goodnight before they take their naps.  Its the most fun WE have ever had cleaning up! 

Here's her little dress-up corner where she can be look at herself in the mirror and spin.  

And a little reading spot.  

I found these little dragonflies on Amazon.  I just love how beautiful and whimsical they are!  

And they match our dragonfly hooks.  

I can't wait until Sadie is big enough to make some creative messes of her own along with Molly and me.  :o)  

This is Molly's favorite thing to do in her playroom right now.  And no, it is not her birthday.

MIA

Hello, blog.  Remember me?  There's a reason I've been missing in action the past month.

#1.  My house was hit with the plague.  Not just sniffles and sneezes...the mother of all viruses that took each of us 3 weeks to kick....and everyone in my house decided to catch it in stages, so it took us 5 weeks or so to be through with it completely.

#2.  Christmas preparations.

 Do you like Molly's fish pond?  Justin made a crocodile to help control the over-population.

#3.  A fun, exciting, new adventure my family is beginning (I'll blog about this later.)

#4.  Christmas commissions.  I've been drawing, drawing, drawing until my pencils were no more than measly nubs, and my fingers felt like they were going to fall off.  

I'm going to be blogging about all of my commissions I've completed over on my business website, so if you'd like to check back and see them all....you can check them out here.  

I hope you've had a happy, healthy holiday and got to spend some quality time with the people you love most!  

Hurty Thirty

I dreamt about Josiah last night.  It's my own fault.  I shouldn't have blogged about him before going to bed.

He was taller, longer, his round face thinned a bit, curly soft hair and the same chocolate eyes I know so well.  His hair was shaved a little on the sides, like someone had cared enough about him to make sure he looked well groomed.  He looked too thick and heavy to pick up, but I did anyway.  I put my hands under his arms and felt the tug in my legs and lower back as I settled his weight awkwardly on my hip.  


"Do you know who this is?"  I heard someone ask him as he looked at my face, puzzled.  


"She looks like someone I knew once,"  he said.  "She looks a little like my mama, but I think she had shorter hair."


"I can cut it again." I spoke swiftly and softly.  "I was going to cut it again anyway.  Maybe you'll recognize me then.  I would do anything for you, Josiah." 


And then I woke up.  Welcome to thirty, Megan.

There's something about every birthday, every milestone, every holiday that reminds me that the house is emptier, quieter, more peaceful than it was last year.  Every time there is a special day, a little voice likes to say, "This time last year, he was here.  Remember how happy you were when he was here?"  I hate that voice.  There is too much truth to it to dismiss it quickly, and just enough lie to let me wrestle with it and let it spoil what should be a happy day.  

I tell myself that I wouldn't be able to give my girls as much energy and attention if he was here.  I try to remember what it felt like to have to pack him up for visitation every week and watch him cry as he drove away without me.  I think about the knots in my stomach watching Justin have to deal with talking to Josiah's grandfather, and how much I hated going to court, praying that the outcome would end in our favor, talking with law guardians, nurses, and case workers trying to advocate for the well-being of my son.  I try to focus on how good my life is right this moment..."Hasn't your life been easier without him?" I argue with my previous thoughts,  "Can you imagine how hard it would be having three right now?"

None if it matters.  I miss him.  I miss him.  I miss him.  And this time last year, he was here.  Eating my birthday cake, squishing it through his fingers, and licking it off the back of his hands.  

When I drove to work today,  I prayed for Josiah...that he is happy and healthy and knows how loved he is.  My thoughts drifted to how many times I took this drive and cried out to God to please move mountains for this little boy.  I remember how often I was comforted when I would see a single sparrow cross the road in front of me.

"My eye is on the sparrow,"  He would speak to my heart. "Josiah is worth more than many sparrows."

Today as I prayed, I told God how happy I should be, how grieving this loss should hurt less by now, and how much He has blessed me.  Shouldn't the good outweigh the bad, at some point?  Shouldn't I feel so overwhelmingly thankful that there is no room for hurt anymore?

Just as I rounded a corner, on my way through a cornfield, I saw the most amazing display of a flock of blackbirds that I have ever seen in my life.  Swarming in perfect synchronization, like schools of fish, thick black billowing clouds, thousands- I mean THOUSANDS- of blackbirds.  Whirling, swirling, fluttering wings.  "Look at me! Look at me!" they demanded my attention.  I think I must have slowed down to 15 miles and hour, and still they descended. Different flocks from every direction.  Coming, coming, coming, like they all had something to say.

"Do you think Josiah is beyond the scope of my care?" He spoke.  "If you only knew how much I love him.  He is worth more than many, many sparrows."    

I don't know how to explain how this road to healing can be both filled with grief and joy at the same time.  I only know that when I question His faithfulness, He is the lifter of my head.

It was a hard day, but I think I'm going to like thirty.

Hello, Thirty!

I've been told that this is supposed to be the hardest birthday.  This is my attempt to assure myself that it won't be.

Perhaps if I haven't loved so much, laughed so much, lived so much, and learned so much in my twenties, THIRTY may seem like a daunting age.  I'm not going to lie- it is a little bit.  I think there is a preconceived notion that someone in their thirties should have a certain amount of wisdom and experience and maturity.  I'm not so sure if I have the wisdom and maturity, but experiences- I've had a slew, and I'm so thankful for them.  

And today, on my last day of my twenties, I want to remember some them, because I am thankful for what they have taught me and how they have shaped me.    

• When I was twenty, I went to Honduras and painted murals in an orphanage.  
• I met friends at college that to this day are so precious to me.  
• When I was twenty-one, my best friend asked me to marry him.
• I watched my older sister get married to a wonderful Christian man who adores her.  
• I rode a gondola through the streets of Venice.  
• I climbed to the top of St. Peter's Basilica.  
• I stood under Michealangelo's Sistine Chapel.  
• I dipped my toes in the Mediterranean Sea.  
• At twenty-two, I graduated cum laude with an art degree from Houghton college.  (I survived 4 years in sub-arctic temperatures and became a pro at scraping snow off my car.)
• I made it through four years of a long-distance relationship (210 miles apart!)...and that's before skype and texting, people.  
• I toured Neuchwanstein Castle with my little sister.  
• I ate Bavarian chocolate in Bavaria.  
• I rode a cable car to the top of the Alps and saw a little old man in lederhosen play one of these: 

• I married my best friend.  
• I dipped my toes in the Caribbean Sea.
• We bought our first condo.  
• I got my first real job. 
• At age twenty-three, I quit my first job.  
• We got a dog and named him Lito.  
• At twenty-four, we sold our condo for a profit, and bought my dream house- in my dream town.  
• I got my dream job teaching art in a Christian school.  
• I earned my teaching certificate through New Jersey's alternate route program.  
• At twenty-five, my husband came to that Christian school to teach, and we coached basketball together.   
• We got another dog and named him Duncan. 
• I watched my little sister get married to her best friend.  
• At twenty-six I had two babies born straight to heaven.  
• I dipped my toes in the Pacific Ocean.  
• At twenty-seven I had two more babies born straight to heaven.  
• I was blessed to become Josiah's mommy.  
• I was blessed to carry a baby to full-term and became Molly's mommy.  
• At twenty-eight I was challenged to trust God with my children's future.     
• At twenty-nine, I put Josiah in God's hands and watched him find a forever home away from us.  
• I started my own small business as a portrait artist.
• I was blessed to become a mommy to another daughter, Sadie Joy.  

My heart is so full with thankfulness for everything God has enabled me to do in my twenties.  In these next ten years, I hope it will be less about what I experience, and more about the experiences I can bless my family with.  I'm excited how I will watch my love grow- for God, for my husband, for my children, for my family, and for others around me.  

Hello, 30!  Nice to meet you.  

Psalm Thirty-three: Hurt, Harm, and Hope

"From Heaven the LORD looks down and sees all mankind; from his dwelling place he watches all who live on the earth- he who forms the hearts of all, who considers all they do."  v 13-15


"The eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine."  v 18-19


"We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.  In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.  May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you."  v 20-22

The shield is an image the invokes the idea that the one who holds it is in the midst of a battle.  It is the thin piece of metal that protects one from getting harmed.  It is not something we hide behind, yet it is there so that when we do face times of great peril and danger, we do not have to fear what the enemy may bring.  

I've been meddling over this thought a lot these past few weeks, even more so when a pastor friend of ours was talking about the difference between hurt and harm.  Hurt implies pain. From loss, death, betrayal, loneliness, fear, depression, etc.... Harm on the other hand, is when we allow the darkness from this pain to permeate our hearts and cause irrevocable damage that affects our testimony, personhood, and the way we love others and allow them to love us.  It is easy to confuse the two.  It is even easier to think that God we serve somehow causes harm to beset us.  

The more pain I face, the more I see the opposite it true. The Bible promises that we will experience pain.  It is our choice if we will allow this pain to merely hurt us or forever harm us.  

From the abyss of emptiness from pain and hollowness that hurt brings, a still small voice can be heard.  It is so faint at first when I first experienced it, I fought it, wishing, hoping, praying, then taking it upon myself to try to flee from it.  It starts as a whisper. 

 At first it says, "Trust Me."

And I say, "I wish you chose a different plan for me that didn't hurt so much."

 And then it speaks, "I love you." 

And I say, "I know that, but I don't feel like You do."  

 And then still louder it says, "I know how you feel and I hurt for you too." 

And I say, "I trust your plan, but can you make the pain go away?"

 Then the voice says, "I gave my life so you could know how it feels to be completely loved and completely at peace forever."

And I from the deep cavernous pit that sorrow has brought, I can feel my answer ringing, singing, louder and louder.  It is sweet surrender.  The conclusion drawn.  The answer found.  It is HOPE.... 

And finally I say, "I was not made for here.  You can have all this world.  Give me Jesus!"

It is only pain that brings us to our knees.  It makes us long for a world that only our heart can recognize because at its very core it knows that we were made to be different than we are now- whole, at peace, perfect, and in a world that only knows how to love the way He loves us.  

Until I am there, I know that He will protect me from letting hurt question His faithfulness and love for me.  I know that He will not let harm beset me from famine.  But I pray that He will keep me ever so slightly hungry that I don't forget that He is the only One who will satisfy me fully.

"The eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine. We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.  In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.  May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you."  v 18-22  

         

  

ker-PLUNK!!!

I got to spend a WHOLE weekend with Levi.  ( I know, try not to be jealous.)  I had a happy bubbling-up feeling in my gut as I got to watch my best friend be a mommy to the boy God chose as her son.  I'll  show the grandness of the weekend in pictures...

                                      

I don't think I can possibly describe the feeling of watching God work so tangibly and deliberately in Jen's life and in my life and in the lives of our children these past two years.  So I'll just tell you with a passage of scripture, some onomatopoeia, and a song.

                                   

²² Then Moses led Israel from the Red Sea, and they went out into the wilderness of Shur; and they went three days in the wilderness and found no water. ²³When they came to Marah, they could not drink the waters of Marah, for they were bitter; therefore it was named Marah. ²⁴ So the people grumbled at Moses, saying, “What shall we drink?” 

²⁵ Then he cried out to the LORD, and the LORD showed him a tree; and he threw it into the waters, and the waters became sweet.

   There He made for them a statute and regulation, and there He tested them. ²⁶And He said, “If you will give earnest heed to the voice of the LORD your God, and do what is right in His sight, and give ear to His commandments, and keep all His statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you which I have put on the Egyptians; for I, the LORD, am your healer.”

Exodus 15:22-26

Ker-Plunk!  SPLASH!!!  Ripple...Ripple...Ripple...Ripple...ripple...