Marriage

Remember

| Marie Griffith

This month begins a birthday “season” in my family.  All of my sisters and I, my youngest daughter, and 2 nieces celebrate birthdays within a span of 25 days.

Birthdays make us remember. One year for my birthday, Mom typed out her memory of the day I was born. She did that for all my sisters, too. That was one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.

Holidays, anniversaries, and other special days also take us back. We should practice it more often, though………..reminiscing. We should remember more than those treasured events like prom, wedding days, holding our newborn in our arms for the first time, or the day we graduated from college. Those are special, but other memories are worth remembering and sharing.

Playing house with your sister and climbing trees with your brother. The family vacations to the beach, the cramped ride down there, and getting so sunburned you could barely move.

Remember the smell of your grandmother’s cinnamon rolls baking in the oven or the hydrangeas she brought in from her yard to put in the center of the kitchen table?

More recent memories….like when my husband and I went to Philadelphia or the last time Dad was home or July 4th, 2014, when Mom sat with us outside and ate watermelon.  Or last week, when we gathered with friends we don’t get to see very often then sat together and watched fireworks.

We need to remember the things that happened.

But what about the things that didn’t happen?

My ex-husband and I didn’t stay divorced. Instead, we decided to reconcile and here we are……..15 years later.

The day I didn’t die because I made it to the emergency room in time. Or the afternoon my daughter didn’t drown in the Little Pigeon River. I shouldn’t forget the day my son and his friend were out in the back yard shooting his rifle. It went off accidentally. Thank God, no one was hurt.

When we remember, our heart softens and swells with gratefulness.  Perhaps we are filled with longing for “those days”. Or maybe the memories cause us to reflect and something in us shifts and we are filled with compassion or wonder. Whatever remembering does, it is mostly good.

There are cruel memories, of course. People have hurt us, or we’ve harmed someone. We’ve made some bad choices, maybe living with regrets or painful consequences.

Those memories just make the good ones even better.

And there are good ones. Keep remembering and you’ll find some.

“But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;
    I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago”.     Psalm 77:11

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Memory on the Menu.”

Face-Time

| Marie Griffith

I ran into a friend yesterday.  I followed her back to her office and we sat and talked a while.  It was good.  We caught up, laughed, remembered, and made a plan to hang out soon.  I needed that.

I love good conversation.  My heart swells like a roasting marshmallow when I get face-time.  It’s good to catch up or get to know someone in a deeper way.  That happens through face-time.  I’m not referring to the app on your smart phone but it can happen there.  Can even happen talking on the phone.  But you must be genuinely involved.

Conversation requires a balance of listening and answering, offering your thoughts and receiving theirs.  A discovery of a mutual hobby or similar work, a laugh, maybe some tears, a shared history…….an open heart.  Mostly it requires your full attention.  Your simple devotion to what’s right in front of you.

Conversation heals, brings revelation, transforms, uplifts and teaches.  If you’re truly engaged.

But we give the fake nods; say the phony “mmhhmms”; pretend we heard what was said.  Scattered, distracted, bothered, uninvolved.  We walk away from the conversation unaffected.  We barely offer anything of ourselves and have learned nothing about the other person.

It makes no difference whether you’re face-to-face or on the phone.

Good conversation, the kind that makes a difference, requires concentration and consideration.

Next time you have a chance to talk with someone, focus your attention.  Stop everything else and connect, encourage, inspire, and listen.  Make someone’s heart swell.

It’s the simplest way to show someone they matter.

The Middle

| Marie Griffith

It was already past my youngest daughter’s bed time.  

“Brady, gather your uniform!  You have a game tomorrow,” I said. 

“Ok, I have everything except my game socks,” she said.  

She looked again after I assured her that I’d washed them.  But it was late and we were too tired to care about her red game socks. We were certain we’d find them in the morning.  

We didn’t. I was aggravated and she was crying when she left for school with her brother and sister.  I waved them goodbye and marched back into the house, determined to find those socks.  I had five minutes.  Not under the bed, not in the dirty laundry pile, not in her brother’s room.  No red socks and I had to leave for work.  Ten minutes into my drive to work I realized I’d forgotten to write a note for her teacher about the change in afternoon pickup arrangements.  

“It’s ok,” I thought, “I’ll just call the school.”

Seconds later my cell phone rang.  It was the school.  My daughter went to the office to tell them I forgot to send a note.

I cried the rest of the way to work. And I was late. I walked into the office with a big grin on my face trying to hide my ruined makeup and wished my co-workers a good morning.

But my eyes didn’t lie.  Even with a fake smile, I’m sure they weren’t fooled. I can usually hold it together, but not lately.  I think I have “Acute Emotionalosis”, an abnormal condition pertaining to my emotions.  Crying one minute, annoyed the next.  I’m overly sensitive to songs about only having 100 years to live or kids growing up.  Trace Adkin’s song, “You’re Gonna Miss This” does it to me every time, and so does anything by James Blunt.  Even commercials cause tears.  Have you seen the Subaru commercial with the 7-year-old little girl at the wheel?

I don’t feel like I’m doing this whole life thing well.  Whether it’s my role as wife, mother, daughter, friend, or employee…..I doubt myself.  Sometimes, I know I’m not doing it well.

That was three years ago. I was going through a difficult time and getting used to a new normal, adjusting to working full time outside the home after mostly being home for ten years.  And in my spare time I was studying for the CPA exam.

I remember how I felt then. Besides tired and overwhelmed I felt inadequate. Less than. Like I was failing at everything, disappointing everyone and I was on the verge of tears most days.  

My family and I finally adjusted to the job. But as soon as I was used to that everything changed again. And again. And then again.  

And more change is coming.   

Change has changed me. For the better. I still have moments of doubt and stress. I mess up with my husband and kids. I say the wrong things, I’m not always there when they need me, and I’m impatient. I forget to write the check or the note. My house is still not as clean as I’d like it to be. I fail sometimes. But they’re only moments. 

When faced with a loss, a problem, crisis, challenge or any kind of change I try to remember it won’t always be this way.  I’m right in the middle of this whole life thing, doing it the best way I know how, and learning how to do it better. I will still feel the sting of failure, but I will take each day as it comes and remember the words to one of my favorite songs, “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World.  

“Hey, don’t write yourself off yet.  It’s only in your head you feel left out or looked down on.  Just do your best, do everything you can.  And don’t you worry what the bitter hearts are gonna say.  It just takes some time, little girl you’re in the middle of the ride.  Everything, everything will be just fine, everything, everything will be alright, alright.

I wish I could tell you I was my daughter’s hero that day because I found those red game socks before her game that afternoon three years ago.  I can’t. We never found the socks. And just last night she asked me where her black athletic pants were.

“I don’t know, baby,” I said.

She asked, “Have you washed them?”

“No, not recently.” I said.

“MOM!” she said.

Oh well, I’m in the middle.

Disastrous

A Love Letter

| Marie Griffith

I found a letter in between the pages of one of my Bibles.  I keep it as a reminder of where we were.

It’s a love letter.  Not the mushy kind inspired by infatuation.  No, the only similarity to a middle school love note is the notebook paper on which it’s written.  This love letter is not the kind filled with dreamy visions of the future.  It’s not loaded with good intentions or empty promises.  No fancy words were used, no love songs quoted.  This love letter was a simple expression of his feelings for me.  And a surprise one, too, because it had been at least ten years since the last one.

Hard times caused him to write it.  We were struggling.  Not connecting, not agreeing, whatever the reason, hard times came.  We weren’t doing so well with them.  We lost it with each other.  We said things we meant at the moment but wish we hadn’t.  Things like, “I can’t do this anymore” or “do what you have to do.”  Words that made us wonder if we even knew each other at all.  The kind of words that hurt deep down.  Then the silence would come and sometimes more anger.  Most of the time the silence brought revelation, understanding, conviction.  It definitely brought regret.  I came face to face with my foolishness, my pride, and that brought its own kind of pain.

He chose to break the silence with a love letter.  I remember the moment clearly.  He didn’t say a word when he handed me the folded piece of paper.  He left me alone to read.  I won’t share his words, those are mine. But I know they were written in a moment of pure love, the kind you feel so intensely that you think your heart will burst. The kind we express when we love our best.

We are still learning to love well.

I have a long way to go.  But I’m on the edge of becoming someone better, someone more free to love the way I’m supposed to.  God is transforming me with His perfect love and I’m still learning.

This learning process seems painfully slow at times.  But I’m not defeated when I mess up.

John Piper writes in his book When I Don’t Desire God, “To be sure, our all-too-slow growth in Christ-likeness matters.  It is the necessary evidence that our faith is real.  But, oh what a difference it makes to be assured, in the discouraging darkness of our own imperfections, that we have a perfect righteousness – namely Christ’s”

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own”.  

Philippians 3:12  NLT

So I cherish this letter and all the other perfect moments we share.

Live Like it Matters

| Marie Griffith

“If a man is called to be a streetsweeper, he should sweep streets, even as Michelangelo painted or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry.  He should sweep streets so well that all the host of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great streetsweeper who did his job well.”  Martin Luther King, Jr.

For a long time I’ve felt a tension between what I have to do and what I want to do. Not because I don’t enjoy the “have to” part.  The “have to” part is really good. It just doesn’t leave much time for the “want to”.  I have a divine discontent deep within and I desire with all my heart to make a difference. To not waste my life.

What if I never get to do what I really want?  Will my life matter?

Yes. Because I choose to live like it matters.

I will love and take care of my family and friends like it matters.  My sisters and I were with Dad in the hospital when he passed and it mattered. Especially to Mom, because she couldn’t be there.

And we were with Mom at home when she took her last breath.  That mattered to all of us more than we even know now.

I will do my best at taking care of all things financial for the construction company where I work because it matters to my boss, my coworkers, our vendors, and all the people who enter our buildings.

I forgave the friend who betrayed me because it matters. It matters to her and me and our families.

The day to day living matters. What you think is the mundane may be someone’s most meaningful moment.  The random conversation in the grocery store.  Finally having that couple over for dinner and good conversation will matter to them more than you know.  The time you spend talking to your kids.  Serving a meal at the local homeless shelter.  Calling your parents.  Smiling at the weird looking guy at the gas station.  It all matters.

There are no small lives.  You matter and what you do matters.

So live on purpose.

Live like it matters.

Cry

| Marie Griffith

Has someone hurt your feelings?  Are your children doing things you know you taught them NOT to do?  Maybe your job stinks, or worse, you need a job.  Is someone you love going through a difficult time?  Does your marriage feel insecure?  Do you feel trapped in your circumstances?  Experiencing troubling health issues?  Scared about the future?  Feel unloved, insignificant, and unseen?

Cry.

Let it out.  Quit pretending everything is fine.  Drop the brave disguise.  Let the disappointment or regret or heartbreak surface.  Let the tears flow and cry.  Sob if you need to.

Can’t find the right place or right time to cry?  Just do it.

In the kitchen while loading the dishwasher. The bathroom is a good place. In the car or on a walk in the neighborhood.  Even at work or school.

Don’t worry about others noticing your tears and sniffles and puffy eyes.

An amazing, beautiful thing will happen when you choose to reveal yourself.  Your transparency will invite support and encouragement.  A moment of compassion or understanding, a reassuring touch, a word of hope, a note from someone who’s been there.

All of us want to know…..we need to know that we are not alone.  The comfort you receive from others will help you bear your trial and you’ll get to return the favor sooner than you think.

Praise be to God……the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 

 2 Corinthians 1:3-5

Prom

| Marie Griffith
Mom and Dad - Prom (1960)
Mom and Dad – Prom (1960)

This is a moment captured long ago…..of youth…….. filled with hope and anticipation.

I wish I’d been there when Mom was getting ready for her prom that night in 1960. I’m sure she spent hours getting her hair just right, taking extra time on her make up, and getting dressed in her beautiful gown and fancy gloves. She’s lovely.

I wonder if her sisters helped her get ready. What did Grandpa and Grandma Sharrott think of their youngest daughter going to prom with that boy?

I wish I could have watched as Dad walked up to the door, knocked and nervously waited until someone opened it. Look at him! His excitement is evident by the big grin on his face. His hair looks newly trimmed and I’m sure he took his time getting his tie straight.

Did his older brothers give him advice? Who helped him pick out Mom’s corsage? Was he brave enough to pin it on her gown or did someone else?

Did they go out to eat before prom? If so, where? How did he ask her to prom?

I know Mom loved to dance. Did Dad dance with her all night? What was her favorite song of the night? What was the name of the perfume she wore? Did he forget to put on cologne? What was her curfew? His curfew?

I had a thousand chances to ask those questions.

Now I have to wonder.

In response to the Daily Post’s Primp.

Brilliant Disguise

| Marie Griffith

I was with a group of ladies last week. We ate good food, shared stories, then sat down to do what we were there for. Learn together and connect. We’re doing a book study. But what always happens is way more than a book study. Relationships are formed, hearts are connected, and lives are shared.

In the beginning, we don’t share as freely. Our talk is more about the weather or our jobs. As we get to know one another we start telling stories of our families and friends. Eventually we are comfortable enough to share more. While we’re talking about the book one of us will share a related personal experience. Another one shares, then another.  At the end of the 8 to 12 week study we know each other on a deeper level.

Hopefully, we’ve let our guards down, taken off the mask, and quit pretending. We’ve connected.  That happens when we uncover the deep things of our hearts.

Still, we all have a mask……….a brilliant disguise that we’ve created for others to see. Sometimes it’s needed and serves us well.

When I interviewed for my current job, I pretended to be confident as I discussed the position and answered their questions. What the interviewers didn’t know:  I was intimidated and nervous. Nevertheless, I was offered the job. I believe my act of self-assurance helped me get it.

But we wear our disguises too often. We think we need them. We believe if others knew our past, our thoughts and quirks, odd habits and fixations, our tendencies and dark addictions that they would stop liking us, ignore us, or worse…..avoid us. However, genuine relationships require we reveal our true identity.

An intimate marriage can’t happen with a brilliant disguise; close friendships either. The facade affects our parenting and frustrates our children. Our kids, especially teenagers, want the real deal.

The disguise makes us unapproachable and guarded. We become judgmental because we forget who we are. The disguises, no matter how brilliant, may protect us from harm some of the time, but will hinder love all of the time.

But when I discard the disguise wonderful things happens. People connect with the authenticity and see something familiar. Some of our fears are lifted. I recognize that I am not the only one with that past or those thoughts. My strange ways aren’t so unusual and my weaknesses are quite common. We all feel less lonely which makes us more willing to take the mask off again.

Wear your mask for your next presentation at work. Take it off when your teenager asks if you’ve ever made a bad decision, when your friend calls to tell you some bad news, or you notice a co-worker with tears in her eyes. And try not to put it back on.

We’re more brilliant when we’re unmasked anyway.

Relate

Love (MSG)

| Marie Griffith

So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut, doesn’t have a swelled head, doesn’t force itself on others, isn’t always “me first,” doesn’t fly off the handle,
Love doesn’t keep score of the sins of others, doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back, but keeps going to the end.

Love never dies.

1 Corinthians 13:3-8 The Message.