Into the Unknown

Over Christmas holidays, we went as a family, along with two of my sisters-in-law and my niece, to Frozen II.  You would think that I would be the most excited about going to the movie- nope.  That crown went to Ben.  He is a kindred spirit with Elsa, and he loves everything about the movies.  After we came out, he promptly downloaded the movie soundtrack onto our Family Playlist.  My favourite song is Into the Unknown by Idina Menzel (although the Panic at the Disco version is a close second).

Anyone else feel like Into the Unknown should be the theme music that is playing in the background of life right now?  Everything feels so tipsy-turvey, upside down right now.  I am a typical Type A-extrovert who, although I am enjoying the downtime, is struggling with the unknown and lack of control that is characterizing life in the moment.

We’ve been pulled from our usual routines and thrust into the unknown.  Suddenly, Ben and I are homeroom (plus all the specialities) for a Gr 2, Gr 5, and Gr 7.  Even as a teacher (one who has taught Gr 7 before), this is still daunting.  For all of those non-teacher parents out there, this is enough to make even trained professionals a little apprehensive.  I am still waiting to hear what will be expected of me as a high school teacher for my classes.  Hopefully by tomorrow we will know what’s happening and I can make a plan for next week.  Then I’ve got to figure out all the tech to make that plan work (and if you know me, you’ll know that tech and are frenemies on the best days).

BUT…

In the midst of all the uncertainty, in the midst of the unknown that seems to creep outside of our windows and doors, there is a certainty that we cannot discount at this time.  We trust in God, the maker and creator of all things, who holds time in his hands.  We have been working with the boys through Philippians each evening, learning about where our joy comes from.  We have taken to heart the following:

We will have joy…regardless that life doesn’t look the same as normal.

We will have joy…even though we do not get to see our friends or participate in activities we had looked forward to

We will have joy…which is based on our perspective of life, not on our life circumstances

We will have joy…even when everything around us seems scary and uncertain

We will have joy…because our hope is in the Lord, and he will always care for us, regardless of the outcomes here on earth

One of the spiritual practices that has become increasingly important to us in the past week is developing a practice of gratitude.  Every supper, we go around the table saying one thing that we are thankful for that day.  It can be big or little, but this practice allows us to remain grounded in the blessings that we do have, even when life seems unfair or uncertain.  I highly recommend everyone develop this practice, taking the time to write them down to look back on.  3 things written down a day turns into almost 1000 in a year.  1000 things to be grateful for.

I don’t know what tomorrow will hold, much less a week, month, or year from now.  And as much as it feels like we’re walking into the unknown, I am very thankful that I am walking into the unknown with Ben and the boys.  With family and friends connecting through tech over distances and time.  With a faith that holds firm to the one who knows all outcomes and who holds us in the palm of his hand.  In that light, the unknown isn’t as unknown as it feels.

How are you holding up?

 

 

Photo by Simon Maage on Unsplash

Untold Riches

I don’t know exactly what we were thinking 14 years ago when we decided June 22 was a good day for a wedding.  Hindsight is 20/20.  Without fail, our anniversary always falls during exam week and we spend our anniversary at the table, Ben marking true and false questions while I work my way through the essays.

Whoever planned Father’s Day for the end of June was also not a teacher/married to a teacher.  June, especially the last couple weeks, are too crazy for any intense celebrating and we usually default to celebrating Father’s Day in the summer.  This year, we sneaked it in just before school started again.

We treated Ben to a pancake breakfast, (mostly) uninterrupted alone time to watch football, and family dessert at Le Macaron.  We love him wholeheartedly and he loves us with a servant heart that I have never before seen.  Happy belated (or as T says, fake) Father’s Day, my love.

Throughout the day, the boys kept asking for what we call “cardboard cookies”. Think the bright pink and cream wafer cookies that we all remember from our childhoods.  They look like cardboard, taste like cardboard, and for some reason, my kids love them.  I spent the day today baking chocolate chip cookies and banana muffins from scratch, and guess which ones they asked for.  Go figure.

I knew that we were going to Le Macaron (a fantastic gourmet dessert shoppe) after supper, so I kept telling the boys to wait, something better was coming.  There were tears and constant questions, bargaining as they tried to finagle their way into eating cardboard.  The most exquisite desserts were waiting for them, ones they would have to do nothing to earn or pay for, except being my kids and I had a gift card to spend on them (and Ben).

It reminded me of C.S. Lewis’ quote-

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” (The Weight of Glory)

 

Too often, I am like the boys.  I think I know what I want, and that my heart’s desire is the fulfillment of my every need.  What I have not seen, however, is everything that God desires to bless me with which is abundantly better than what I often want.  My unwillingness to wait, or to live in the tension that waiting demands, blinds me to the promise of hope deferred.

We anesthetize ourselves with everything we can think of- food, tv, anger, selfies- to keep ourselves from having to be real with ourselves, our family and friends, and ultimately with our God.  We think it will be too much to bear if we fully committ to transparency and vulnerability.  We instead opt for fake vulnerability and fake Instagram comments that make us feel better while we fool only ourselves.

Isn’t it awe-inspiring that the God of the universe, the One who sang you into existence, desires only your good.  The temptation comes in wanting to dictate to God what that good looks like because we think we can ensure freedom from hurt and pain and loss.  But those are often gifts from God, drawing us closer to Him.

So, let’s purposefully and with intention, remember that God has infinitely more for us than we can ever hope or imagine.  We have a holiday at the sea, or desserts at Le Macaron, waiting for us if we don’t allow ourselves to get sidetracked with poor imitations.  Put down the cardboard cookie, there is something so much better waiting for you.