growing up Archives - karin madden

October 15, 2014 by Karin 2 Comments

When You Wonder If They Will Stick Together

I can see it like it was yesterday.

The scene in the back seat of my truck. A screeching baby and a fidgety toddler.

It was dark and after a long drive to I-don’t-even-remember-where, we were nearing our home. Our home for the moment anyway.

The wails from the backseat can grate on the very last nerve you have left when you are sleep deprived and trying to relish all the parent-of-little-kids moments. And our nerves were shot.

I tried every trick up the mommy sleeve, but baby girl wasn’t going to fall for it anymore. She was plain mad, plain tired, plain done. Just like her parents.

The kicking legs of toddler boy against our seats was the only rhythm we could seem to find. Ker-chunk, Ker-chunk. Little legs kicking to remind us the journey wasn’t over yet. We faced the joys of bath and bedtime after the long trip. Our night wasn’t over yet.

My warrior and I stared into the distance, worn weary by our little charges. And who would have guessed such small packages can fill your heart and drain your body all at the same time? Onward we drove. Ker-chunk, Ker-chunk. And the wailing resumed.

I don’t remember where we were when I noticed. I don’t recall what pulled me from my mama trance. But suddenly it was quiet.

Oh, maybe they fell asleep!

I whispered to warrior Daddy.

I craned my neck trying to avoid eye contact. You know, eye contact is just asking for more,

Mommy, Mommy, Mommy…

That’s when I saw it. The snap shot burned to memory.

My toddler boy had taken his baby sister’s hand to calm her. Sucking away at his binky, he grinned from beneath the round blue plastic pacifier. His dimpled fingers clutched baby sister’s small hand as he turned his gaze to the window. And baby stopped crying.

I wish I had a photo of this moment, but it was long before iPhones were a glimmer in our moment capturing minds. I stared long at the small hands clutched together in comfort. And I think the best memories are the ones burned on our hearts. I rotated to the front and smiled in the peaceful silence. I was sure it would always be a little like this.

But time passes and babies grow. Big brothers find joy in tormenting little sisters, and siblings spar. Giggles and jabs turn to tears and anger before we can get to the kitchen. We watch as they grow and know that part of growing up is learning to battle, and find peace – under one roof. Part of growing up is standing our ground and finding new paths all at the same time. Part of growing up is growing close, then growing apart, and praying to God we find each other again. I have big brothers, too.

Through the sparing and battles with the ones who share our blood we find a new branch on this rapidly growing tree. A place to sit together a while. And sometimes Mom gets to watch.

It’s been ten years since that ride in the car and the paths have been winding. The sibling peace has intertwined with sibling feuds, and sometimes I’ve wondered if my boy would ever reach for his little sister’s hand again.

And then he did.

She had been crying. It’s not easy sometimes – this military life. Just when we feel at home, just when we fall in love, just when we find that perfect friend – it’s time to go again. And my girl misses her home. The one that feels more like home than this one. More than that, she misses her bestie. The one who lives states away. I suppose we all miss at least one good someone in our lives. Sometimes more. So, she cried.

And it doesn’t matter how many times Mama’s arms wrap around her neck, or how many times I whisper,

It will be ok. It will get better. I understand…

Sometimes it takes more than Mom. Or Dad.

She hunched her shoulders and drew her knees to cover her eyes. The shaking shoulders gave way to wracking sobs. And this is when a mother’s heart breaks. Because there is nothing I can do about it.

Baby sister, only sixteen months younger slipped over and touched her leg,

I know, sister. It’s hard sometimes.

Funny to hear those words from a ten-year-old. And I watched the scene unfold.

That’s when I saw his face. His eyes softened as he slid next to his not-so-baby-anymore sister,

It’s ok.

Not another word came from his lips as he pulled my girl into his arms and squeezed.

And just like all those ten years ago. She stopped crying.

Because here is the thing. There is a bond between siblings that is stronger and deeper than we can put into words. These branches from the same roots – spreading to the skies before our very eyes.

When we look closely, we can see – the branches reaching for their freedom find each other and touch. Blown by the same winds of change.

Even when decades pass and we wonder if any roots remain; we dig our hands into the common soil and find our roots have only grown deeper and stronger with the trials.

1 Peter 3:8-9

Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous; not returning evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary blessing, knowing that you were called to this, that you may inherit a blessing.

October 13, 2014 by Karin 2 Comments

When The Answer Is No

He looks at me as his eyes fill with tears,

I know it’s a dumb thing to ask for.

I pull him close noticing that he can now put his head square on my shoulder. I squeeze his shoulders and remember when these long strong arms barely reached around my neck. The once dimpled hands pressing against Mama’s neck. His shoulders slump as he goes on,

I feel guilty for asking. I know it’s too much. There are bigger things in the world. More important things to be upset about.

I don’t know quite how we got this far down the road. And, really, why does it have to go so fast?

I hold his face in my hands,

It’s not dumb. You can ask for anything. It’s just that as we get older we realize we don’t get everything we ask for. And it’s a tough thing to swallow.

He nods as his head drops.

It doesn’t matter how many times our mothers tell us this. It doesn’t matter how many times we hear the stories. This growing up thing is just so hard; and watching it is even harder.

My mother-in-law told me years ago as we chased my little ones with our hair on fire as they ran amuck through mini disasters,

It’s physically tough right now. The sleep deprivation. The messes. But, it becomes mentally difficult when they get older.

But what did I know? I was sure the baby Mommy phase would never end. The swirl of sleepless nights upon sleepless days, and finger painted diaper messes. The permanent hip jut carrying a whiny toddler while the baby screamed in the ten ton car seat.

The physical strain I was sure would last forever and a remnant still lives in mothering a little one of three. But, she was right. The mental part aches far deeper.

I want you to know you can ask for anything, but sometimes the answer will be no. I don’t want you to ever feel guilty for asking. Guilt is the lie.

And don’t you know, sometimes when you speak to your kids, you can hear God whispering right in your ear,

Ditto.

I look into his eyes and my heart aches. From the moment our eyes meet the deep blue newborn haze of their eyes, we want to give them everything. But we can’t. And we shouldn’t. We bleed and tear and ache for them, and maybe this is meant as foreshadowing. There’s a fresh pain when we watch their hearts ache, and there’s not one thing we can do about it.

I brush the hair from his forehead,

Sometimes the answer is no. And I wouldn’t be doing you any favors by teaching you anything else. But, son, I want you to know this. Believe me… believe Him. Behind every no there is a better yes.

And there is. There is a better yes behind every discouraging defeat. Even when the better yes waits far down the road. Even when the best yes is on the other side of the veil. We can’t give them everything. We want to more than we long for our next breath, but we can tell them the only truth that matters. Sometimes this path is rocky and rough, and sometimes we think we might just crumble before we can make it one more step. But we won’t.

We can teach them this; when the no is blinding us – the best yes waits in His open arms.

Numbers 11:23

The Lord answered Moses, “Is the Lord’s arm too short? Now you will see whether or not what I say will come true for you.”

May 1, 2014 by Karin 2 Comments

The Only Way To Grow A Garden

He keeps jumping around me. He won’t stop asking for the Coke. But c’mon, it’s 9 pm. He knows better.

I only allow a little bit of the caffeinated poison, and only early in the day. And only when I’m feeling a little bit more gracious.

I remember wanting that stuff as a kid. My mom would only get it on holidays. Only one holiday, as I recall. It was a New Year’s Eve treat. That’s it.

He’s up late and he’s growing up fast. And they all said it would happen, but I didn’t really listen. I was too busy trying to figure out how to grow this little guy. How to start a garden and build it to flourishing.

I was too busy trying to live on no sleep, no sanity, and no idea what the next stage would bring. I was too busy trying to figure out the rules to this game. No one gives us the perfect gardening book when we plant the first seed. We have to learn by shoving our hands right into the dirt. We dig in and get our head into the task; but, really, it’s the heart that goes first.

I can still see his face the moment he breathed his first breath. I see the bow of his lips and the blue of his eyes. I looked into his face as his heart beat rapidly against my sweat-soaked chest. Our hearts beating separately for the first time. I remember looking into his expectant eyes as motherhood grabbed hold of my soul,

I’ll show you how to live.

The rules we grow up with – they root in our minds and plant themselves firmly in our plans.

It’s where we learn how we are going to do this whole thing. We have nothing else to go on. Just the patterns set before us and the familiar footsteps in the garden. We follow the steps and know they’ll take us somewhere we know by heart.

We follow the places our own moms and dads have gone. We follow because we trust they knew what they were doing. We keep tiptoeing along and watch the garden of our youth grow into a forest.

The forest out there sometimes overwhelms us and we wonder if mom and dad actually had any idea, or is it just us who have not one clue. I’m pretty sure we all get lost in the weeds here and there.

Some of us get tangled up and choked in the weeds for a good long time.

Then, one day, a Gardener comes along and cuts the thorny and wilting places from us. We breathe deep and find we are free.

We run past the places we grew up and high-five a few lifted hands along the way. We run and think we just might have an idea what this whole thing is about.

Then. We become parents.

Now we find ourselves tending our own garden and we see all the mistakes our parents made – the same ones we find pouring from our own lips, the things we judged with our I-am-so-going-to-do-better-than-that attitude, and the know-it-all smirk fades from our sun-parched lips.

We never knew gardening was so… hard.

Ours are now the footsteps being traced and followed and watched and studied and criticized and analyzed.

Ours are the steps these young trusting ones put more stock in than the sun itself. They just trust.

And we wonder if we have what it takes.

We keep walking. We keep weeding. We keep pruning and nourishing and trimming and watering. We keep on trying.

And if we have figured anything out, we know the only way to garden… the only way to grow something right… no matter what our footsteps may have looked like…

The only way to grow our garden well – is on our knees.

Matthew 13:31-32

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.”

When You Wonder If They Will Stick Together

When The Answer Is No

The Only Way To Grow A Garden

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