Joyful Eyes

Hey, you.

Yes, you. You with the ready smile hiding your tired eyes.

We need to talk.

I've been watching you. I've been watching you for a long time, and I've been noticing something lately.

You've changed.

Change is good, and you need to know that. You have grown, and you should rejoice in that. Don't be discouraged. You've made progress. You aren't a kid anymore, even if you feel like it sometimes, and that's good.

But you've changed, and not all for the better.

You're not a child, true. I said that was good, and it is.

But not completely. Look at your eyes. I'm not an expert at eye color, so I won't tell you what color they are, but I can tell you something.

They aren't as happy as they used to be.

Why?

I've been observing you, and I think I know.

When you were a child, you thought everything was good. There were bad things out there, but nothing that had much to do with you. Why shouldn't you be happy? You didn't realize people don't always get along. Life was good.

But when hard things came into your life, you stopped. You didn't know what to think. You knew you should be happy, but how can you be happy when you're tired?

And by that, I mean sad.

I want you to understand something. Life is good.

It is. It still is, even when it's not perfect, even when it's hard.

Life is good when you discover that your friend messed things up. When you learn that the leader you admired stepped down because of an affair. When your favorite people move away. When people you love don't like people you thought were good. When two people you respect disagree. When you suddenly have to make a decision for yourself as you have never before and life is so confusing. When you feel the confusion and no one understands.

Even then, life is good. Life is worth being happy about. You need to regain the simple trusting joy of your childhood.

[By the way, something else I want you to know and never forget: the illusion that no one understands is an illusion. True, no one ever understands anyone else really, completely. But people understand what you're going through much more than you think--and if they don't, it's probably your fault. For not trusting and being open. And you know there is Someone who does understand, completely.]

Friends are good, worth having and enjoying, even if they fail, even if they end up hurting you, even if you won't be friends forever.

Differing opinions don't matter that much. I see you, hung up on them. Wishing everyone would just agree. Listen, kid. Differences are good. As a quote I found recently said, "If two people agree on everything, one of them is unnecessary." Don't let differences-yours or other people's-make you think less of others.

You need to know something.

You must not live in fear.

Yes, time goes on. Things change. What you have now, you will not have later. But do not borrow trouble from the future.

Little ones grow up. Your relationships will change. All of them. Because you're changing.

Change is normal. Change is good.

Don't let it steal your joy.

Conflict is normal, too. On earth, there is sin. People will fail you. You will fail others. The more you care about something, the more it hurts when it's not perfect, and nothing here is.

Don't let that keep you from caring.

And don't let it make you cynical. You're a positive person, or at least you were. You can see the best in people and accept them the way they are.

Don't let disappointments or other people's ideas of reality change that.

Don't lose faith in people or become negative. Don't judge other people for criticizing. We need those people too. But that's not you. You were meant to be an encourager. To be joyful. Don't let others' negativity make you doubt whether you should expect good things.

You should. True, things won't be perfect. They don't have to be. That's why we're waiting for heaven. Down here, we accept imperfections. It's okay.

Accept that, smile, and move on. Don't expect things to be perfect or to happen the way you imagined, not even close.

But expect it to be good.

Life is messy. That's okay. Everyone is different. You are different. There really is no one like you. That's okay. It really is. In fact, it's good.

And don't say that it's certainly good the world doesn't have to deal with more than one of you. I know you. I know that's what you're thinking. But I want you to know something else, and I want you to know it well.

You are good. Yes, you're sinful and wicked and selfish to the core. So is everyone else, but God made you and He loves you, and He doesn't make mistakes.

Stop putting yourself down. You're a child of the King. He has good things for you. He has a purpose for you. You know that. Why won't you believe it?

Have confidence. I'm not trying to be a motivational speaker with some meaningless drivel that has emotional impact. But there is a reason it has emotional impact. You can do whatever you put your mind to, you are valuable, but only because of God. Your confidence should be in Him.

You know Him. I know you do. You know what I am telling you. But you keep forgetting! You keep living as if you don't expect Him to bless you! As if He isn't enough, and you need something else to comfort you.

I can't figure out if your eyes are green or gray - and I don't think they're really blue - but I smile and will the joy that comes from confidence in Christ into them as I gaze into my reflection.

That is, I beseech God to give it.

In Promotion of In-Laws

In the past four months, I have gained two in-laws. This is something I recommend to anyone who has the opportunity.

Siblings are one of the awesomest things in life, but at some point your parents decide that they have enough (thankfully, my parents never did), that they are too old or they are ready for grandchildren, or some other unfortunate decision or circumstance limits the number of siblings you have. At this point, your only hope of gaining more siblings (unless you can push the adoption idea through or an unexpected surprise happens) is by substitute means.

Adopting other kids as your siblings is an acceptable and highly respectable method which we have adopted [pun fully intended, of course!] with a number of people. I greatly recommend it. It can be done with more distant relatives or good friends who need a family or whom you need in yours. Those special people who fit into your family and you do not want to lose track of. This can be officially acknowledged as it is in some of our cases, or unofficial in others.

However, the downside to this (besides it not being legally or even socially recognized - sometimes even by the adopted sibling's own original family) is that it may not be continually binding. I have not seen adoptions done by siblings of siblings long enough to know. Though I know we are not without precedent and I have not done much research on the subject, I have heard surprisingly little to indicate that others have taken up this practice. Nonetheless, anything not officially recognized by society is less likely to last long term.

So, the best thing to do is to get them married in so they officially, legally cannot escape. The other benefit to this is everyone recognizes your brother/sisterhood, which makes things less awkward and simpler all around.

(Unable to escape is key. For some reason, a number of people seem to want to be around my family, but if your family is anything like mine, you will also have fears that some day they'll realize what they've gotten into and get out if it's legally possible."I declared him my brother" doesn't hold up in court.)

You will probably find that you don't have enough siblings of the right ages and genders. However, if you have done your job well and have gotten your parents to agree to adding lots of original siblings, your likelihood of being able to make these additional siblings certain and legal increases.

For cases that simply cannot be remedied legally (I have a few, such as older girls my age who do not seem to like the idea of waiting for my 12-year-old brother, as my older one is taken, and adopting one old enough at this point would hardly make him a Beerbower, which would defeat the whole purpose), sibling adoptions must do. You must just make sure people know it's official so you don't lose them.

But this was in promotion of in-laws, not additional siblings.

However, the whole delightfulness of in-laws is that they are additional siblings. The beauty of marrying off a sibling is that while you kind of half lose a sibling, you also gain another one. Before, you had a brother or a sister. Now, you have a brother and a sister. And you get to see someone whom you have seen growing up get to go through this interesting phase. Because it's interesting-while you're gaining a sibling, they are not. They are gaining a whole new relationship entirely and don't get another sibling at all. That is an enjoyable bonus.

I imagine all of the objections and protests that are coming.  [That is, of course, these objections would be coming if anyone were actually going to read my blog-which is a stretch-and then actually respond to it-which is almost beyond imagination.]

Don't tell me it's not your fault your parents only had [insert number below five or six] kids. I am fully aware that this is written from my particular perspective. It's more interesting that way, you must admit. It is also true that there are downsides to siblings getting married. But all good things have downsides and that is not the part you talk about when you are promoting something.

Brothers are awesome things. Sisters are as well, so when you have a boy who makes your sister happy and becomes a brother, you can hardly think of a better arrangement. Unless they were actually siblings and lived at home with you, as my youngest sister asked if Stephen would when my oldest sister started dating.

Just kidding, guys. I don't want you to live with us, even if we had the room. Don't worry.

Friends that are so good they are like sisters are awesome things, and if your brother falls in love with one of them and makes her your sister officially...well, you can hardly think of a better arrangement there either.

Of course, you may have to pay the price of less interaction now, but that will be made up for in the future since, as mentioned before, they are stuck with you officially for life. [ I know I said that you don't talk about downsides when promoting things, but you actually should if you know there would be objections and you can dismiss them.] And it wouldn't be different if your friend had married someone else, except in that case you would see them even less. And you would hardly want to keep all of your good friends from getting married, even if you could. Which you couldn't. Thankfully.

All this to say that, if you have the opportunity to marry off one of your siblings and gain an in-law, go for it.

Of course, you can't really prevent it anyway, nor can you really make it happen. (Though my brother might dispute that later point.)

So I guess all I'm really saying is that at least I am glad I have in-laws for siblings.

And if you get to have them, enjoy it.

If I Could Tell You Anything...

If I could tell you anything, and if you would believe it, it would be something you already know.

For most of us, that's all we're ever told. All we ever need know. Things we have heard before. Things we really knew but needed reminded of.

For us over-priviledged, over-informed Americans, as I  am assuming my (few if existent) readers are, there is little that we haven't heard at some point.

But hearing and knowing something is not the same as knowing.

So if I could tell you anything, and if you would believe it, it would be simple. It would be a Sunday School answer that you, growing up in a home where everyone had their own personal Bible (or could have, even if you had to get a Gideon one from the fair) and there were six churches within a few minutes' driving distance (unless it took you fifteen minutes to get anywhere anyway), have always known.

I would tell you one simple, three-word sentence.

Jesus loves you.

You, the well-taught Sunday school child, roll it off your tongue, roll your eyes quickly over it, hum it under your breath. 

But that is what I want to tell you, what I want you to know.

Jesus loves you. 

Imagine if you really believed that. If you really believed that the all-knowing, all-powerful, perfect God of the universe knows you specifically, loves you specifically, and will never leave you, you, first-middle-last name, with brown/black/blonde/red/gray/white/dyed hair. You with that hidden fear you've never told anyone, you with the tired sorrow you can't or don't explain, you with sin so much more deeply implanted than your closest companion knows.

Imagine if you really believed that God knew you completely and loved you the same way.

Maybe you think you do.

But then why do you still fear? Why do you doubt yourself - that is, doubt that God will bless your works?  Why are you so lonely? Why do you doubt your value to others and to God? Why are you discontent?

Would not all these things be resolved if you really knew Jesus loves you?

And if you knew yourself and your sin, and you knew Jesus' utter love for you, would you not honor and delight in Him over all?

I started this by thinking of what advice I would give to the next generation that may soon begin in my family. Then I realized that if I could be sure they knew anything, it would be Jesus loves you and all that implies. That it's what I would want you to know too.

Because if I could know anything I wanted to, if I could know it in the real way, with experience and conviction and deep in my heart, like I know the water is cold after feeling my body shiver from it chilling me from head to toe, not just by guessing from the cloudy, windy land, know it in a way that no matter how warm the water looks, I will never believe otherwise, that's what I'd choose to know.

That Jesus loves me.

Dusky View

I was inspired to write poetry today, so I did. If you know what this is about, I would be surprised. If you know what it means, I would be interested to hear since I'm not entirely sure myself.

Dusky View

Curled like an armadillo,
with its silver back against the gradiated brown,
I watch the invisible rain
dampen my paper like falling fog.
Against the spongy browns of my sandpaper seat
my feet press,
feeling their fine prickles redden my skin.
Away, yards by the ground but a few feet by sight,
the green bush buffalo charges
from the llama fence where it grows.
I wonder if the soft wind stroking my body
chills the buffalo's branchy bones
as it does mine.
The uneven creak of the white-haired woman's chair
riding the crickets
soothes me as my own seat
grows more damp and cold and hard.
Or is it a dark-haired woman,
with just a few hairs fading to gray,
framing the drooping eyes lulled by the crickets
like the fair figure she gently fingers?
I don't know.
From here, you can feel life,
As far as the eye can see,
Until the trees obscure it.
Orion is there, like a friendly man,
completely obscured by the foggy dusk.
With branchy arms, three companions stand
unless their fading shadows and dark sillouettes
warn of a coming gang.
Light comes, below, around, beyond,
but always at a distance
and always spreading shadows.
I wait for morning,
but for now I relish
the height while the sun is down.

A New Path

In less than one week, I will be standing at the end of a (rather long) line of girls, watching.

For the fourth time, I will be watching at the front of a church as a dearly beloved friend of mine says her vows to the man who has won her heart.

Each time, it has been a girl I love, to a man I appreciate, at least for the reason that he has made her happy.

But this time it's different.

Although last time, it was my sister to a man who is as good as a brother, this time the man who will be exchanging vows with my friend is my brother.

The boy who has been my playmate and friend since before I can remember.

The boy who has shared sleeping quarters with me, with whom I have disagreed and fought, who has chopped wood and helped clean, who has made me food and driven me places.

The hardworking boy who has finally given in to tired eyes after many hours late at night, talking with me and my sister. This boy who has been my introduction to the masculine world.

He has organized bonfires and caroling, rides to concerts and contradancing, birthday parties and times at the park. His friends have become mine, and often mine his. Aside from my father, perhaps no one has influenced my view of men more than he has.

"Your brother is so nice," I have been told. "I wish mine was like yours."

One day off work, the phone rings, and I pick it up. "Hello."

"Yo, yo, yo, yo!" a peppy voice calls.

"Hello," I smile.

"Why don't you return my yo's?" the voice questions. "I was just calling to see if you worked today and needed picked up. I was working by the mall and I'm done now. I take it you don't, since you seem to be home."

That's my brother for you.

Although we have had stages of disagreement (should the orphans we played get captured or have a war was always a big one), I have always enjoyed him. The older I have grown, the more I appreciate him. The more I realize how blessed I have been to have Eric Paul, Handsome Boy Beerbower as my brother.

Especially as I think about life without him in the house. Without his feet pounding and his voice war whooping up the stairs, or hearing, "If anyone's going with me, I'm leaving right now," every Sunday morning, or seeing his dusty white form dash upstairs to shower.

I'll miss it.

And it's a good thing there's a worthwhile reason.

Because when I stand up there, it won't be behind him, though he has my support.

I will be standing behind my friend...

who just happens to also be that day becoming my sister.

My first sister-in-law. The best reason and only thing I can think of that makes me actually very happy about my brother leaving.

The happy, beautiful girl who has captured my brother's heart.

Who has made him happy and excited... 

which admittedly isn't difficult to do, 

but she has done it in a way nothing else has.

It's been amusing to watch.

Then, after this, we'll be done with weddings for a while, and life will not be so exciting.

 It will be the beginning of a new era in our family.

 

The beginning of a new family. And of ours, as a smaller one.

 And yet, bigger at the same time.

Turning away from a happy pathway is always at least a little melancholy.

 But I look forward to seeing what God will do on this path. And we feel blessed to have Ruthie joining us.