ChAoS in MOtiOn
A Reflection of Thanks
In
this week of Thanksgiving, I’ve taken the time to reflect on some experiences
that I am hugely grateful for, and that have helped shaped the person I have
become. At first you may think I’m
referring to the glamorous life as a stay at home mom, with my days filled with
taping and texturing sheetrock, finding the dog and the toddler splitting a box
of Lucky Charms in the middle of the living room floor or investigating if
there are teeth on the eldest’s toes, since no one should humanly burn through
socks that quickly. No, while
grateful for all of that chaos, there are certain things I’ve experienced that
forever changed me.
The
Good Doctor and I waited for 5 years to have children. It was a conscious choice. There really is never the perfect time
to have a baby, but we were aiming for the least worst time, which hopefully
would entail some financial stability that would allow us to care for another
human being. For this I will
always, bitter sweetly, be grateful.
The bitter part being losing my mother two weeks after finding out I was
expecting our first child, the sweet part was how it solidified our marriage.
You see, I really like my husband.
I like being with and around him.
I’ve always had fun being his wife. We got to be a couple for 5 years.
We got to be spontaneous and head out the door in an instant to a destination
decided on 3 seconds before. Very unlike the strategic planning, act of
Congress, 2 stuffed bears, one blanket and an iPod it takes to get out the door
these days. When we moved to a 5
square mile island in the middle of the Caribbean ocean for almost 2 years, we
had only each other… and when you have only 5 square miles of terrain with only
two ways off the island, you had no choice but to work things out. I am so grateful we had this time to be
a couple, before being thrust into the great upheaval that is parenthood. Parenting isn’t for sissies, and I am
forever grateful we had that base to build upon. I love being a mother, but
I’ve tried to not sacrifice the role of wife in the process. I have always tried to keep in mind that
someday the three kids with be gone (and hopefully not move back in) and I want
to be able to look at him and say “Hey… you!” and not “Who are you?”
In
our time together, my hubby and I have participated in a couple mission
trips. There is no way to
participate in a mission trip and not come back home unchanged. Early on in our marriage we spent two
weeks in India, and witnessed life and health care in that amazing,
overwhelming, sensory- overloading country and during our time living in Iowa,
the church we attended participated in a project called Mission Jamaica. Mission Jamaica had several different
projects, but the one we participated in was helping at a children’s’ orphanage
in the hills of Jamaica. My
visions of these sweet children at this isolated place still linger in my
mind. These were not just orphaned
children; they were all disabled orphaned children. Many had Multiple Sclerosis, and if in the US, these kids
would function, with help, along side their classmates, as MS strikes the body,
not the mind. In this orphanage,
these crumpled bodies had been discarded with their minds intact. The one cabin shared one toothbrush amongst
9 kids. This is mainly because
poverty is so rampant and the large quantity of supplies given by missionaries
are either pilfered by employees or hoarded for fear the donations may cease to
continue.
The
joy on the children’s faces at our presence was beyond words. They knew what the missionaries did, and
that was touch them, hold them, talk to them… They knew that, if only for a few
days, we would be present to their alert mind trapped in a tangled mess of
limbs. There was no way to not let
my experiences there affect they way I interacted with my own children.
I
definitely have moments that I wonder if that day was the day that would
require a dozen counseling sessions for one of my kids. We all have those days. But what I am so grateful for, in
regards to my mission trips, is learning what kids crave, and what they want is
not so much stuff, but presence, and time and touch. And I am as guilty as anyone to be caught up with “Just a
minute!” and cave at the $1 bins at Target, but then the memory of child without
a toothbrush to call his own will slip in from the edges of my mind and we will
have a “Staff meeting” with the kids.
We will talk about stuff, and how we have a lot of stuff, and how some
kids have no stuff, and how picking up the stuff is making Mommy crazy. Yet the crazy thing is, the kids get
it. They understand. And given a choice between Legos or going to a museum
together, they want the togetherness.
One of them may prefer togetherness at the mall, but the understanding
is there. I am so thankful for
some of the things I have had the chance to see and do. One can’t know, what they don’t
know. I would not have known how
fortunate I am without seeing first hand the poverty and destitution I have
seen. It is my goal that in gentle
ways, I can pass on to my children what I have learned and they will embrace
gratitude.