I know the speed limit is only 40 km/h, but I find myself itching to hit the gas pedal just a little bit more. But I know there are boys in striped T-shirts and shorts on roller blades just around the next corner, with hockey nets and tennis balls, teaching their little brothers how to play road hockey.
A little girl on a pink bike with Barbie streamers is tottering dangerously, her tongue off to the side of her mouth as she practices without training wheels, her mom right beside her.
I'm coming home.
And as I inch towards my house--it's easy to spot, as we're the only one with a bright red car on our street of all beige and black vehicles--I can't wait to jump out and hug my kids and hug my husband. One of the best things about coming home is having someone to come home to.
Last weekend I taught the speaking track at the Canadian Christian Writers' Conference in Guelph. It was a wonderful time, and I met some great people, including a few I'll likely introduce you to over the next few weeks. I always come back inspired and grateful for all the networking. Yet all the amazing people in the world cannot compare to the three wonderful ones who are waiting for me on my front porch.
It is good not to be alone.
At times I am so happy and filled to the brim with love that I think I will burst. But those times seem always sprinkled with sadness that others do not share the same joy. While on the road I ate at some fast food restaurants, I have to admit, and when there I did something I rarely do anymore--I picked up a newspaper and read it. And everything had to with tragedy--children who had been stabbed or shot, children who had been murdered by parents, children who had hung themselves, young women killed in a drunk driving accident. There is so much tragedy.
And among all the tragedy are the tawdry divorces. Just as tragic, really, but in other ways.
My mother endured a divorce. My father left for greener pastures, and my mother raised me alone. When you are a child, you don't think of what it is like for your mother to be alone. You only think of the hole in your own life, but you don't think of the hole that is in hers. This week our children went through something tricky with friends, and I had to make a decision on how we were going to handle it. But I didn't make it alone, because my husband was there to bounce ideas off of and finally to come down hard on one side. Had I had to make the decision alone, I likely would have vacillated for much longer. It is hard to raise a teenager alone.
I know another family whose 14-year-old daughter was just diagnosed with bone cancer. She also has small lesions on her lungs. They call it the "Terry Fox" cancer, a reference most Canadians will know. I have felt just sick for them for the last two weeks. And yet they are not alone. They have family; the parents are married; and many from Katie's school have shaved their heads in solidarity. When we go through difficult things, it is good not to be alone.
Almost all major tragedies are made so much worse when we endure them alone. And indeed, the root of many such tragedies is family breakdown. Those who grow up in a home without dads are far more likely to turn to crime; and those who grow up in a family without dad are far more likely to be victims of crime. Everything is exacerbated. And then, when something really bad does happen, you have far fewer resources to see you through.
When I was 16, I came home from my part-time job one night at 6:30 to find my mother in a ball, shrunken, on the corner of the couch. When I walked in the door, she straightened herself up, smiled a weak smile, and then asked me to come sit down beside her. And as I did, she told me that she had been to the doctor that day, and they had found cancer. She would be having a mastectomy in three days' time. It was a large enough tumour that they were sure it had spread.
I was an only child to a single mom, and my mom was telling me that she was likely dying. And what did I do? I sniffled a little bit with her, gave her a hug, and then fled that apartment, got on a subway, and went to my best friend's house to talk it out. When you're 16, you need a friend. And I left my mother in a ball.
My mother's cancer hadn't spread. A few years ago, for her twentieth anniversary, we threw a "Glad you're not dead" party. Some thought it was in poor taste; but Mom and I both thought it was hilarious, because I am very glad she's not dead. And yet there are images I will never forget of that time: her lying in pain in the hospital bed, trying to look brave, when I came in during my lunch break from high school. Her being wheeled into surgery, with her two sisters on either side of her bed before they had to turn back. Her talking to the doctor, by herself, because there was nobody else there to talk to the doctor with her. And my mother, all curled in a ball.
It is not good to be alone.
I watched the movie "It's Complicated" a while ago when my husband was away on business, and I found it actually quite sad, and true to life. It's not a very clean movie, and I felt it was too graphic in some of its conversation. But the emotion it portrays is so true to life. At one point, the 60-year-old woman, whose husband left her ten years ago, has finally built her life back up, and she is now remodeling her kitchen. After going over all the plans, she leaves the room, only to come back in quickly.
"One last thing," she says to the designer. "No his and her sinks."
He challenges her on this, asking if maybe in the future there may be need of a "his".
"I have his and her sinks now," she says. "And everytime I look at them, I feel sad."
It is not good to be alone.
God can bring people who are alone much comfort, and He can make them stronger and teach them to rely on Him. But I do not think that is His plan. We are meant to be live in community; ideally that means marriage, but if not marriage, at least some kind of close community. I sometimes look at the single people I know and wish so desperately to play Emma, to matchmake for some of these dear ones who live alone and should not have to.
Perhaps they are content with their lives, and I am reading too much into it. My mother has a rich life, though some would still call her alone. And death can steal those we love from us. Life happens.
And if we are alone because of death, at least we have memories. But to be alone because of betrayal and rejection is very difficult. And it is not His plan. To be alone because you have never found anyone to love I don't believe is His plan, either. It is getting so hard to find mates today, in our world where people have fewer and fewer social circles. It is hard to find close friends when people are increasingly moving to an online world. And so too many are stuck with being alone.
Alone in a world of roller blades and pink Barbie bikes. Alone in a world of hospitals and shootings and stabbings. And it makes me glad for the three waiting for me, on my front porch. I wish I could bottle this up and share it.
Last month, before we left for Kenya, my 15-year-old daughter went on a retreat with her youth group. She built a luge track, went sledding and skiing, hosted snowball fights, and in general had a grand ole' time.
Until, that is, we started talking the night she got home about friends.
Rebecca is a lot like me. She's the kind of person that is more likely to have a few very close friends at a time than have a whole pile. My younger daughter, on the other hand, is always right in the middle of everything. She's a social butterfly.
I find that I need a few people to talk to, but I don't need a lot. And since I've been married, my husband has taken on the role that many girlfriends once did for me. I can talk to him about just about anything, and I find that I can now go several days without calling an actual friend, since I have my hubby and my girls to talk to. It isn't that I don't appreciate my friends; it's just that I'm slightly introverted, and I need one or two close people and that's about it.
Yet as a teenager I was very insecure, and I desperately wanted friends as an affirmation that I was a good, fun, lovable person. I think most teenagers are like that, and that's why peers take on such importance. Often teens seek the approval of kids they don't even necessarily approve of. But even if our kids think other kids make poor decisions or are kind of mean, it hurts when those kids don't like you.
My daughter, for instance, sometimes feels like she's second best to many of her friends. She has one best friend, but to everyone else she's second best. Sure they'll talk to her and do stuff with her, but she's not their number one choice. (I pointed out to her that they're not her number one choice, either, since she already has a best friend, but I think that was far too logical for her).
I know that women need friends, and often we can't figure out what we think about something until we've shared it with at least five friends. When I have a big decision to make, I do tend to pick up the phone, certainly more than my husband does. But that doesn't mean that I find it easy to make friends. In high school I remember praying and yearning to make those years go quickly so I could get to college where I would meet others who were more like me.
In university I had a very few close friends, but I always felt that they were better friends with each other than they were with me, and that was strange. And then in the various churches I've belonged to, I've managed to find one or two good friends, but I've never felt like I've been rolling in friends. Others look at me and probably think I've got a ton, because our social schedule is quite full, but that's more that I have a lot of acquaintances. I've never in my life had more than two people I could really share my heart with at one time. Friends have always been a struggle for me, and I have gone through years of real loneliness. Thankfully, my husband has been there, but it is hard to find adult women to befriend. Often I'll meet someone I know I'd love, but they live in another city or something.
My daughter Katie isn't like that. I think she'll always be swimming in friends, but perhaps those friends won't mean as much to her as my one or two mean to me. So I'm wondering how you view friends. Are they hard to come by? Do you have a bunch? Do you find yourself lonely?
Has the internet, and blogging, helped plug a hole in your life? Let me know!
It probably mostly stems from the fact that my husband snored last night, and I didn't want to wake him because he's been on call a lot lately and he needs his sleep, but I couldn't sleep either.
But moving to the guest bed wasn't an option because it's too cold in this house, and the really warm comforters are already on beds!
So I crawled in with my 11-year-old, who may not snore but she sure does flail. So I got no sleep.
Anyway, I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself, and I need to know that I'm not the only one! So you all have to comment on this post after I spill my guts. Deal?
Here's the thing. I have turned myself inside out for the last few months trying to create a great home for the family. Our meals have been great. I've been exercising again. I've kept up with the homeschooling. I'm really trying to invest myself in my nephew (whom we also homeschool).
And I've left my writing to "whenever I can fit it in", which is basically never, or at 7 a.m., because I'm trying to make my family my first priority.
But in the process, it seems as if people now expect that of me. The kids always have one more place they need to be chauffeured to. My extended family wants me to do various things, and seems upset if I have to speak on the weekend they wanted. Friends need me to do things.
But nobody ever asks what I'm writing these days, or what I have planned, or if they can do some stuff for me to give me some time to focus on my dreams.
My primary dream is for my family. Of course it is. But I am also called to write, and I wish that some of my family members would support that really and truly. They always say they support my writing, but they hate it when I get distracted the day before I have to leave for a speaking engagement. They don't like it if I take time at night to write when I could be doing something with them. They don't offer to pray for me, at least not on a consistent basis.
I don't need it. I really don't. I have God, and that's enough. I would just like it sometimes. Does that make me selfish? And does that make any sense?
I just feel like I give and give and all anyone ever wants is more. Because what I'm doing isn't good enough.
Now I feel guilty for writing this because it's there for everyone to see. But that's just how I'm feeling today. I'll probably be better when I get some sleep, but for now Diet Pepsi is going to have to do it. What about you? How are you doing?
About Me: I'm a Christian author of a bunch of books, and a frequent speaker to women's groups and marriage conferences. Best of all, I love homeschooling my daughters, Rebecca and Katie. And I love to knit. Preferably simultaneously.
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