by BooParry | Mar 11, 2021 | Parenting
This was always going to be a special year. The last year of having a preschooler in the house. The last year of being a stay-at-home mom. That was my title for 12 consecutive years. I knew I wanted to savor the last. I wanted to soak up every minute of it. I didn’t want to take anything for granted, and I didn’t want to have any regrets at the end.
A little bit of background. I had three daughters before our son entered the world. My first two girls were only two years apart, and I was neck-deep in the stress and challenges of first-time motherhood when they were little. Yes, we had a lot of fun times, but there were equal amounts of stressful and exhausting times. Right around the time we felt like we were getting into a groove (at ages five and three), our next daughter came by way of adoption. This brought a whole different adventure on its own. Again, a lot of good and challenging times. But I would not call it a peaceful time. A year later, we had our surprise baby, our son. This was the year we moved into our temporary home, as we outgrew our former house. Nine months later, we moved into a different state, away from family, for the first time since we were married. As if that was not a big enough adjustment, a year later I returned to finish grad school, which took up a considerable amount of time for the next few years. Although I was still technically “staying home” with my son, I didn’t have the kind of time to dedicate to him like I did when the girls were little. We were running around to different school events for the girls, or he was left to the care of my work-from-home husband, as I worked on finishing my internship.
Fast forward to 2019. I finally graduated in May. The girls were in full-time school. My son started his last year of preschool, where he attended three mornings a week. I was in the process of obtaining my licensure, which I knew was going to take a few months (and even then, I knew I didn’t want to work full-time until he finished preschool). This was it. This was my last year of having one-on-one time with my son, as well as the last year of being a stay-at-home mom. Finally, finally I felt like I was in a place where I could fully enjoy it. I wasn’t a “newbie” stressed-out mom anymore, and I wasn’t preoccupied by school obligations. All the previous years I couldn’t dedicate to him like I wanted to, this year was going to make up for it. This year was going to be special…and so it was.
I savored it. I captured so much of it on camera. I treasured both the special outings and the mundane everyday routines. Picking him up from preschool and seeing him running towards me was the highlight of my day. He was my helper for grocery shopping. We are hardcore ALDI shoppers, and his job was to transfer our reusable bags to the counter while I paid the cashier. He loved to hear that we were going to Publix, which meant he would get a free cookie. We played “don’t touch the lines” at every parking lot. We enjoyed occasional treats like donuts and Cinnabon’s. We explored Children’s Museums, libraries, and local parks. My favorite was going to Menkoi noodles for a lunch date. His favorite was going to the mall. He enjoyed going to the play area, where he would occasionally run into his preschool friend. I used my coupons (from the girls’ school fundraiser) to buy pretzels and smoothies for us to enjoy. To this day, that is one of his favorite memories. “Mommy, do you remember when we would go to the mall?”
I passed my licensure test in October. The holidays got busy. I went on my 40th birthday trip with my girlfriends to NOLA. Christmas break came and went. In January, we were getting back into the swing of things, but we also had a fun cruise planned for the family at end of the month. In February, there were some weather days and sick days that messed with our routine. I was busy training for my first half-marathon. Still, my son and I squeezed in a trip to the Children’s Museum one rainy day in February, not knowing it was going to be our last.
March came. Suddenly, it hit me. I only have a couple of months left. I was quickly and fully back on the mode of “must capture and savor every moment!” Time was limited; the end was near. Weird rumors started flying around the second week of March. A friend told me I needed to go to Costco to stock up, because a 14-day quarantine of the county may be coming. I didn’t even know what that meant, or what it would look like. My older two girls and I were getting ready to go to Florida for spring break, as soon as they came home from school on Friday. By Friday morning, we heard that Florida theme parks will be closing, and we decided to cancel our Florida trip. I remember picking my son up from preschool that Friday at 12:30. I was the last parent to pick him up (which was not unusual). He had his Amazing Athletes program that day, so he was waiting in the lobby with his coach. He jumped up when he saw me, and when I opened the door, he excitedly shouted “Mommy!” with his arms wide open. I will never forget that. Something told me in that moment, could this be the last? I took him to Chick-fil-A for lunch. The playground area was closed. There were college students in the nearby table talking about their campus being closed for two weeks. I looked at my son across the table, who was enjoying his chicken nuggets without a care in the world. Again, that uneasy feeling struck me: could this be the last?
We all know what happened next. Schools closed, and my other kids came home…for two weeks initially. I tried to maintain hope. I told myself I still had April and some of May. By end of March, we all knew that wasn’t going to be. By mid-April, I knew that hope was lost. We were robbed…that’s how I would describe it. We were robbed of the last few months we were supposed to have together. I began to grieve. I allowed my heart to grieve…and I’m still grieving. Schools reopened in the fall, and my son started kindergarten. I recently went to ALDI and realized that I have to transfer the reusable bags myself to the counter. My heart grieved. I went to a local park for a walk, and I realized that I was alone. I saw the same garden that we looked at a year ago, and I remembered how excited he was to see all the butterflies. My heart grieved. I went to have lunch with a friend, and I saw a mom come in with her small daughter, asking for a table for two. I thought to myself: a lunch date. And my heart grieved. Again.
Lately I’m astonished when I realize how much I don’t know about my son’s day. I try to ask him about school, but he gives me very little details. With so many activities going on among the six of us, some days I realize I hadn’t seen him for most of the day. As I tuck him in at night, I tell him how much I missed him, and I tell him about what I did that made me remember the time we had together. He hugs me tight and tells me, “I want to go to the mall with you.”
I feel the tears well up and I whisper, “Me too, Buddy…me too.”
by BooParry | Mar 4, 2020 | #Rebirth, FaithJourney, Series
Rebirth.
That was the word that came to me for 2020. Yes, I’m one of those people that chooses a “word” for the year. I know that the phrase “being born again” is often used within the Christian culture, referring to the moment a person accepts Christ as their Lord and Savior. This is for another time, but currently I am pretty jaded with “Christianese” language. So, how I would like to refer to that same moment is this: when I first encountered Jesus. That moment was my rebirth in the eternal sense. It was the moment my soul met what (or in this case, Whom) it was searching and longing for. Life has never been the same since.
I believe turning 40, for me, is another kind of rebirth. For the last few years, I have been intrigued by the significance of specific numbers in the Bible. For example, the number 7 in the Bible often seems to represent completeness and perfection (or wholeness). The number 40 is usually used to describe a period of testing, trial, or probation. It’s fitting to me, as I feel that I am currently at a crossroads between my first half of life and my second half. At age 40, I feel that the “period of training” (for this particular training) is coming to an end. What I love is that in the Bible, a period of testing was usually followed by a period of restoration, revival or renewal. Hence my word for the year – rebirth.
Majority of the first half of life was spent on building my sandcastle – my cover story. Studying the Enneagram for the last two years greatly helped me to put detailed, descriptive words to my cover story. Don’t worry, I will write more, both about my cover story and the Enneagram…in due time. Back to my sandcastle. At age 33, something unexpected happened. My sandcastle was smashed…completely and irreversibly. I will write more about this later, too. Since then, God has been taking me through an incredibly hard journey in the wilderness. Richard Rohr calls this process “falling upward.” At the beginning, there was no way for me to see that I was falling upward. It only felt like I was falling into a dark, bottomless pit.
There is so, so much to say about the last seven-year process: the shattering, the darkness, the wrestling, the start of restoration, the receiving, the emerging, and the preparation. And now, the rebirth. For now, all I want to say is that because of this upward falling process, I was able to gain a rear-view perspective on my first half of life. I was reborn or “awakened” to the existence of a story that was much larger than my cover story. I was awakened to a clearer view of beauty, goodness, and truth. I now count this view as one of the greatest gifts from God.
I believe I have gained the maturity and the peace I didn’t have before, and I now consider my sandcastle – my cover story – as something that was necessary for my first half of life. Going through my first half, followed by my upward falling, allowed me to uncover and learn the truths I need to carry with me into my second half…which is my true and whole story.
With that, these are the goals I have, not only for this 41st year of life, but for this new decade and beyond.
- Be astonished by the love and presence of Jesus.
- Find beauty and joy in simple, hidden places.
- Pay less attention to Christianese or popular boundary markers.
- Focus on BE-ing, over SEEM-ing, SEEK-ing or PROVE-ing.
- Embrace “non-people” and new people.
- Play, create, rest, and be outside as much as possible.
- Seek adventure (travel and explore new places/experience).
- Seek substance over surface in connection with others.
- Acclimate to the gray world of both/and (mercy and truth) and avoid the dualistic mind of either/or.
- Pursue a life of contemplation and personal reflection.
I believe these goals will greatly help me in my journey to wholeness. My journey of moving beyond the cover story into my whole story.
Can’t wait to share more!
by BooParry | Jul 31, 2018 | #SecondJourney, FaithJourney, Series
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
*This post was written in May & June of 2018…finally getting around to posting.
I’m writing today from a place of…peaceful grieving. I’m grieving over the end of a certain season, and I’m grieving over the end (for now) of a certain friendship. Both have taught me a lot about myself, relationships, and life. I’m also at peace because I know that both have served its purpose for the time being, on my end and on theirs. If I can go back, as painful as some moments were, I wouldn’t change the way I embraced the season and the friendship.
The Season:
In this season I became extremely jaded of cliques. I’ve always disliked them (maybe I never got over the trauma from early teenage years). I also became jaded of performances and regularly scheduled programs when it came to anything relating to spirituality. I call it my mid-Christian life crisis. I know that during this time, I made some unfair assumptions with my black-or-white, all-or-nothing way of thinking. But God also used this time to bring a spiritual awakening (I like to call it a “spiritual snap”) in my life. I no longer wanted to be complacent and comfortable with just staying within familiar boundaries, running our programs, and checking things off the list. I wanted something more, something different. I wanted a community like what I read about in the book of Acts. The community always had room for non-people and new people. I mean, not just invite them in to be part of a “program” but invite them in to be a part of their lives. Where ordinary people mattered. Where non-popular people mattered. Where people who were different mattered. The community made time and space for deeper (beyond-surface-level) connections to take place. My soul longs for this type of community.
It took some time, but I allowed God to transition my feelings of jadedness into a peaceful resolution. I knew that this particular season was coming to an end, and I believe I was able to end it well.
The Friendship:
This one took a long time to process. The pain is still fresh. One of the qualities that I believe that I have, that I always took pride in, is being a loyal friend. I was an only child, so I always valued close friendships. Once I feel that a deeper level of friendship has been established, I make a lot of effort to stay in touch and nurture the friendship. I’ve always said that my family and my friends are my greatest treasures. But sometimes, as in any relationship, unexpected curveballs are thrown and things get complicated. Wounds are inflicted on each other, often unintentionally. Both sides are left feeling hurt, rejected, and misunderstood. It’s hard. In midst of this mess, however, God is showing me something about myself – perhaps I took too much pride in my own ability to be a good friend. Sometimes, I’m not going to be the one who can be there to help. I’m not always able to be the “good friend” that I want to be for others. I realized with this one particular friendship, we are not in a place where we can share a healthy relationship with each other. However much I may want to, I can’t be the person who can help her at this time. What stings the most is that to her, it looks like rejection and abandonment from me (which is what I hate the most for someone else to feel from me). Again, God is reminding me to let go of the ideals I have created for myself, or what’s even harder, to let go of the ideal image that I want others to have of me. OUCH, this is so incredibly hard for me. Through this ordeal, I realized how much I care about what others think of me. God is helping to “prune” me so that I can cut off this need in my life. He is enough. How He views me, cares for me, and treasures me is enough…always. I don’t need to be seen as the “good friend” to everyone. I only need to remember Who I belong to…whose child I am.
His ever-sufficient grace is often revealed through our inadequacies. His purpose is often revealed when things don’t go according to our plans. His strength is made perfect in our weaknesses. I still believe, and continually pray, that God’s beauty will be revealed through this mess…in time.
For now, I am allowing myself to experience this peaceful grieving. Life is hard. It’s difficult to let go of our plans, our comfort zones, and our ideals. However, I look back on the previous chapters of my life, and as hard as it was to close some of them, God always had new adventures waiting for me. I am hopeful for the next chapters He has in store for me, for my family, for our new community, for our old community, and for my friend. My peaceful grieving will slowly transition into hope-filled beginning of a new chapter.
by BooParry | Jan 25, 2018 | #MomLife, Parenting, Series
Photo by Bonnie Kittle on Unsplash
It seems to come so easily and instantly for other moms…the “warm and fuzzy” feelings.
I’ve heard other moms describe the feeling in the following ways:
“It’s like my heart jumped out of my body and started walking around.”
“The feeling I have for my child…I never knew I was capable of having so much love for another human being. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced before.”
“When I think about how much I love my child, I’m finally able to understand God’s great love for me.”
They all sound so…blissful. So motherly.
Let me give it to you straight: I just didn’t have it when my firstborn arrived. Of course, I loved my child. But it wasn’t this overwhelming, never-felt-like-this-before, I-love-you-so-much-I-can’t-stand-it kind of love. It was more like…I love you because you’re my child. God gave you to me as my child, and I am your mother. We are off to a really rough start. This was not what I expected at all. But we are in this for the long haul. Let’s keep learning and growing, together.
Far from all that’s said in a Hallmark card.
Feelings of guilt started to creep in…what is wrong with me? The other moms seem to have this natural affection instantly, but I don’t. Am I a bad mother?
I then had another daughter. This time we were off to a much better start, but I still didn’t get to experience all the warm and fuzzy maternal relationship with her (mainly because I was so overwhelmed with my strong-willed toddler).
I then had another daughter (yes, there is a theme). Another difficult start, another shattering of my expectations (I will write more on this later). This motherhood journey was going in the direction that’s opposite of what I was hoping for. It’s going from hard to harder. Again, the same questions arose, only this time more intensely. What is wrong with me? I must be a bad mother.
I then had a son (notice the change in theme). What do you know – I finally had it. All of it. The warm and fuzzy feelings. The instant, over-the-top affection. Everything all the other moms quoted and more. My heart was completely captured by this tiny creature. I didn’t want to blink my eyes and miss one moment. Three years later, I am still captivated by him. I love experiencing every new stage with him. I don’t think I could love him any more, yet as he grows older I love him more. It’s so natural and it’s just…there.
I believe there was a mixture of factors involved. Obviously, he’s a different gender. In my humanity, I think I naturally have a softer spot for the opposite sex. He’s also my last baby. Last time I had a newborn baby before him was five years prior (our third daughter came by way of adoption when she was 2), and as I already mentioned, I was overwhelmed with my firstborn toddler at the time. With my son, I was a seasoned mom, my girls were older, and I was actually able to relax and enjoy the baby stage. Instead of stressing about little things like I did with my first, I was able to just soak in the blessings.
Here’s what I learned from my contrasting experiences: The warm and fuzzy feelings don’t make you a good mom, and the lack of those feelings doesn’t make you a bad mom. It’s just dumb luck if you have it or you don’t (well, I know God’s hand is involved in all, but you know what I’m trying to say). And it can easily vary from one child to the other.
How do I know this? Because I was far from being a good mom when my son came. In fact, it was a season when I felt absolute worst as a mother. Then, in His infinite grace, God chose to bless me with these motherly feelings when my son came. I had zero part in it.
So I hope this encourages some moms who may be experiencing the disappointment (and the guilt) I felt with my first and third. Every motherhood journey is different (even with multiple children in the same family). With my girls, the affectionate feelings are building over time, brick by brick. With my son, it was instant. That’s just how God saw fit that it should go; I had no control. God has a unique design and purpose for every mother-child relationship. I have four very different relationships with my children, and each one is constantly evolving.
Back to my firstborn. Lately, we have the best conversations at night. They’re often very heartfelt and deep. Yesterday we had a rough interaction. We both did/said things to each other that we regretted. At night, we apologized to each other, and it was so real. We both knew it, we both felt it, and we both expressed it. It was a true soul connection. I love that. I’m able to appreciate it more, because our relationship took (and still takes) a lot of work. But it’s so worth it. She amazes me in so many ways. I don’t know anyone like her…and even though she often drives me crazy, I can’t wait to see all that God will unfold in her life. There are still thorns involved, but our relationship is starting to bud in a beautiful way. I have grown so much as a mom because of her…and we will continue to grow, together. And this shared growing experience…it’s something unique about our relationship that is not shared with the other children. No one can take this away from us.
God gives us emotions for many purposes – simply to enjoy, to grow closer to Him and one another, to cause us to act, etc. But love is never just about a feeling.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
–1 Corinthians 13:7
If it said, “Love is having the most affectionate feeling,” I definitely would have given myself a big fat “F” on the subject of loving my child.
But this – never giving up, never losing faith, being hopeful, and enduring through every circumstance – this, my love for them can do.
by BooParry | Oct 30, 2017 | #SecondJourney, FaithJourney, Key, Series
Photo by Matt Howard on Unsplash
Something is happening.
I feel that I’m falling deeper, yet I’m not afraid.
I feel that it’s so much bigger than I can handle, yet I’m not overwhelmed.
I feel that I’m experiencing some sort of…rebirth. An awakening…of my soul, of my true self.
God, could it be, that you are closing the chapters of my smaller stories? Are you closing my morning program, as You transition me into a life that accomplishes more of my true purpose?
Brennan Manning calls this the second journey.
For the Christian, the second journey is often accompanied by a second call from the Lord Jesus. The second call invites us to serious reflection on the nature and quality of our faith in the gospel of grace, our hope in the new and not yet, and our love for God and people. The second call is a summons to a deeper, more mature commitment of faith where the naiveté, first fervor, and untested idealism of the morning and the first commitment have been seasoned with pain, rejection, failure, loneliness, and self-knowledge.
–Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel
I should give a little bit of a background story. I’ve been in a season of “desert experience” for a few years now, and my soul has been in some dark places (see post God Showed Up Bigger). I think it’s similar to the season in the wilderness that the Israelites experienced after they left Egypt, before they reached the Promise Land. I have become very acquainted with the words described above: pain, rejection, failure, loneliness, and realization that I have been relying on self-knowledge and my own abilities. This humbling experience has caused me to cling to God tighter. The waves of the storm have been high, and I needed the security of my Anchor more than ever before. As always, when I seek God more, He takes me deeper. Deeper experience of His love. Greater awareness of His presence. Clearer understanding of His perspective. I’ve had similar experiences like this before, but not to this magnitude. Because this current storm has been the toughest (not to mention the longest) I’d ever faced, the awakening experience has been more real, more revealing, and more powerful than ever before.
I am the Way, I am the Truth, and I am the Life.
–John 14:6, The Passion Translation
Recently I heard this profound truth regarding the above statement made by Jesus during a retreat I attended. “Heaven is the reward. Destination is the Love of the Father.” Heaven is not the destination; it’s just the cherry on top that happens to last for eternity. The prodigal son thought the destination was his father’s house. His plan was to beg to return there as a servant. He didn’t know that his true destination was the love of his Daddy. “I am the Way….” To where? To the love of the Father. That’s my destination. Jesus will take me there, always.
Brennan Manning confirms that this is precisely what the second call (mentioned earlier) asks: Do you really accept the message that God is head over heels in love with you?
Jesus also says, “I am the Life.” This part…I’m finally starting to understand and experience it. He is the Life. I have no life apart from Him. The life I had built for myself – the sandcastles I had built – had to be torn down. God needed to take away all the pseudo stories I wrote for myself and turn them all upside down, so that I can finally live the real story God has in store for me. My pseudo stories had the wrong theme…trying to make my life look good on my own. The true theme of my story is, and will always be, discovering deeper the love of my Father and living my life out of that love. The second journey calls me to truly live, in freedom.
A thief has only one thing in mind—he wants to steal, slaughter, and destroy. But I came to give you everything in abundance, more than you expected—life in its fullness until you overflow!
–John 10:10, The Passion Translation
Back to this retreat I went on. I had a taste of this “fullness.” I tangibly experienced the deep, intimate affection of God in my body, soul, and spirit. I experienced the gentle presence of Jesus. I was overwhelmed by it all, but He gently whispered to me, “There’s so much more I want to show you. So much more of My love to be lived out, even (especially) back in your everyday life.” I am meant to fully live a life of discovering beauty, intimacy (deep affection), and adventure (sacred romance)…not just for a few days in the most ideal retreat setting but in my everyday life.
I don’t want to live in my pseudo-stories anymore. I am the prodigal daughter, and I am my Father’s delight. That alone causes me to dance…to burst in joy. My heart can’t contain it all…and I don’t want to contain it.
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
Oh, it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine
I couldn’t earn it
I don’t deserve it
Still You give yourself away
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
There’s no shadow You won’t light up
Mountain You won’t climb up
Coming after me
There’s no wall You won’t kick down
No lie You won’t tear down
Coming after me
–Bethel Music, “Reckless Love”
His love chases me. I have finally moved beyond head knowledge to heart knowledge of this truth: I am the lost sheep, I am the prodigal daughter. His love chased me until I was found and brought me home. He left the ninety-nine…for me.
Oh, this reckless love…I can’t contain it. It won’t allow me to remain the same. It leads me to greater beauty He has for me, to deeper intimacy, to a wilder adventure…and He wants me to experience all of it, now, everyday. I hope to share some of this “second journey” with you in the coming posts.
I have no idea what the second journey holds…but I do know the destination.
Beloved, you are Home, in My arms.
Papa, I come running to You. I throw myself in Your arms. I am HOME. There is nowhere else I want to be, ever. Stay with me, always.
