Let’s do a little writing exercise: post a blog that encompasses something from each category in my list.
Books: I loved Kathleen Norris’ book Acedia and Me. It’s definitely worth the read, and I’m looking forward to reading more of her writing. By the way, acedia is something like apathy and depression, but not entirely. Very interesting, and pretty relevant for most writers at some point.
Christmas: I found the lost Christmas books last week! They drove me crazy this Christmas – I just couldn’t imagine where in the world they’d be hiding! My house is tiny, and all of the Christmas stuff was in the guest room closet, but the books were gone. Well, last week I was cleaning that room to get ready for Davida’s visit, and guess what I found under the bed? Yes, an under-the-bed storage bin that I’d forgotten about. And you know the rest of the story. :)
Daily life: There are eight flower containers on my patio, and I love them.
Family: Just spent an amazing Fourth of July long weekend with my family – all seven of us! It was b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l!
Friends: The above-mentioned Davida came for a visit last week and we had a great 24 hours together! It was great to connect and remember all sorts of random things about our time in Split.
Memories: I love the feel of a spray of cold water on my feet in the summer. Every time it reminds me of the same thing: washing our feet at the bathhouse on the way to the beach at the Conference Grounds. Our little toes would get too hot on the pavement as we walked from Grandma’s motor home, through the park (jumping from shady spot to shady spot on the asphalt), and up the hill to the beach. About half-way up, we stopped at the bathhouse to wiggle our toes in the icy cold jet, watching the grains of sand swish-swish around the shiny metal drain. I think I liked those few moments more than my whole day at the beach. I still love it.
Movies: I love Dan in Real Life. I didn’t really like The Proposal.
Music: I think this would be a fun group to see in person.
Polls: If I created a poll tonight, it would be about the best kinds of popcorn.
School: Tonight I read the assigned texts for three hours straight and I still have 75 pages left. I don’t think I’ll finish them in the 15 minutes tomorrow before class.
Spirit and Soul: God is my refuge and my strength. I need that.
Travel: As soon as possible, I want to visit Split. But it probably won’t happen for a while.
Worth Reading: Well, this is weird, but tonight I had to read The Yellow Wall-paper, and I kinda liked it, in a strange way.
Writing: There’s been very little of this going on lately. Maybe this month will be better; I hope so. I always feel better when I write.
Until next time,
Jen
P.S. “Thumbs up” is a familiar phrase for anyone who works with Ben. When he’s sliding into a bad attitude, sometimes all it takes to redirect him is a quick flip of your thumbs and the reminder – he’ll smile a cheesy smile and if you’re lucky you can move on to a different subject. Sometimes the attempt isn’t quite so effective, and ends up feeling like you high-fived a tornado and watched it plow through Main Street. :) * . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Tomorrow, my big brother will graduate from school. Not high school. Not really college. Just school. He is twenty-six and mischievously cute, talented too – how many men can hit a 1” pebble 25’ with a child’s plastic bat while sitting in the light of the setting sun, huh? And do that over and over and over again while sitting on the ground with only the occasional break to push the dog out of the way. The guy’s got talent.
This is a week that my family has anticipated for years, and each of us in our own way. I think we grieve and share joy for and with each other, but each one of us has bittersweet thoughts and tears that we own.
When I was growing up, Ben was the big brother I wanted – and I wanted him to know that. I talked to him – tried to tell him everything that was on my heart, tried to tell him just how cool he was, fought with him, and bandaged his boo boos. But, Ben could never really talk back. Some nights, I would hang out in his room and tell him about my day and try to talk him through the process of replying to what I was saying. “Make this sound, Ben: Mmmm. Good! Now, Mmmm and oooo together. No, almost… Mmmmm…” Other days, I would sneak glances in his direction, my ears attentive, hoping to hear his first spontaneous word other than “da” or “ma.” I wanted to hear “Rachel.” I wanted to hear, “This is what I did at school today – isn’t that cool? Hey, let’s go for a bike ride and then we can play football.”
I remember one morning at home – I wasn’t quite six, when I thought Ben said “Good morning” as I walked by. I ran to my mom and excitedly told her what I was sure I’d heard. “Really? No, honey, I don’t think so. I’m glad you are trying to hear him talk though.”
Sometimes, trying to hear him talk, trying to imagine what his handwriting would look like, forming into legible letters and ultimately words and essays on his experiences as a handicapped child, stemmed from a childhood hope that could not be extinguished. Really – why would little girl Rachel suspect Ben would be the same functionally when he was twenty as when he was 10? He went to school, right? He was Trainable Mentally Impaired, so he could be trained in the skills of being a normal guy, right? Slowly, that beautifully naive hope altered – never left, but was changed by re-assessment that said Severely Mentally Impaired. Changed by my own studies of the human brain. Maybe he wouldn’t learn how to talk? Maybe he wouldn’t play hardcore tackle football with me? What if he couldn’t live on his own? Would I be able to take care of him when I grew up?
For all that Ben could or could not do, I wanted to protect him. I nearly hit strangers, even friends and family who just didn’t understand Ben. While Ben couldn’t talk like us, he could definitely communicate, and I despised the word “retarded” (which led to a few of my own outbursts directed at people I barely knew), and I hated it when my brother got the “Ben, be nice” treatment when he was just trying to figure out how to pet a puppy. Ben was strong and still is. While his strength frightened people, he was also tender and could spot a broken heart from 20’ away. Ben felt the sting of those looks and words. Oh how I hated to see him hurt.
Yesterday at work, a woman started weeping nearby and repeating in distraught and soul-wrenching tones, “No, no, no, no, no…” She has had few other words since her injury, and I had to leave the gym. I couldn’t handle hearing what I had heard so clearly when I was little: when Ben came to the end of his rope to handle his inability to communicate or be understood, he would cry with words and sounds that only his tongue could form. And that was usually at home or while he fell asleep. I miss being close enough to him to help calm him down when he is troubled. I feel like I have totally let him down as the protective sister. I moved away, and I couldn’t even make it to his one and only graduation. His big day. His beautiful steps into adulthood. I won’t see his smile as he walks across his school gym to receive his recognition. Benjamin Edward Boerema, Graduating Class of 2009.
Oh Ben, how many times have we talked about this big event for you? It’s here now, and rumor has it you are ready. Ready to be accepted into the Wesley Roberts day program, ready to move into the community beyond the warm and loving walls of Linda’s classroom and Bob’s watchful eye and jokes with you. You will do a great job with the transition, Ben, and you’ll even be in the same program as your best bud Orion!
In one week, my family will gather at my parent’s farm for Ben’s open house. I had planned to be home for it, but those plans fell through. I even looked at last-minute ticket prices again… I’m sorry, Ben. I know you will smile and giggle and hug all of your guests, basking in the spotlight on your life, but I am so sorry.
Ben, some day we might live side by side again. Last year, dad asked me if I had made a move that was temporary or for a career and life. I don’t know, but I pray that I live near you again, dear heart. I pray that we will spend afternoons playing once again. That someday you will be the grandest uncle your sisters and brother could ever want for their children. That you will delight in the Fourth of July fireworks as if they were a new surprise that we planned each year just for you. That you will sing to me sweetly on the phone and hold my hand gently when we walk across busy streets.
Ben, I pray that you will have great joy as you close the chapter on school and open the door to new treasures of learning in life. I pray you find delight in the work of your hands, and that your heart remains tender to the love that you and Jesus share.
Thumbs up Ben, this is your green day!
Another turning point
A fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist
Directs you where to go
So make the best of this test
And don’t ask why
It’s not a question
But a lesson learned in timeIt’s something unpredictable
But in the end is right
I hope you had the time of your lifeSo take the photographs
And still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf of good health
And good time
Tattoos of memories
And dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth
It was worth all the whileIt’s something unpredictable
But in the end is right
I hope you had the time of your life
Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) Green Day
Tomorrow marks the beginning of a very good year. After tonight, I will no longer be able to say, “A year ago, Marin and I were raising support for Moody,” or “A year ago I was his girlfriend,” or “A year ago I was so excited about introducing him to my friends.” I will no longer be able to say those things, and for the most part, I don’t want to say them. It (generally) feels better here than it did there.
After tonight, we cross the threshold into a new calendar. I’m excited about that! I’ve been thinking about June 5, 2008 quite a bit this week, and remembering what the following weeks and months felt like – it was yucky. My emotions had been so tightly wound for more than two years and when they got cut loose it was like… like, I don’t know what. They just kept unraveling, slowly and unpredictably at first, and then faster and steadier as the months went on. Lately I’ve hit some milestones and life feels freer and cleaner. I’m so grateful.
Which leads to my purpose in posting tonight: It’s time to acknowledge what God has done. In our Daniel Bible study tonight we talked about scenarios when God delivers us through the fire and refines us in the process, and it was so fitting to be reminded of that on this particular day. We also studied this verse tonight, and it seems to fit (with a little tweaking – pardon my changes):
At the end of that time, I, Jen, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my wholeness was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever. (Daniel 4:34)
This is what God has done.
- He has taught me more about humility and grace toward others
- He provided deep relationships for every part of my heart and soul when I needed them
- He was patient and perfectly timed in the process of letting go
- He placed me in work situations that both distracted me and fulfilled me
- He allowed me to pursue the dream of TESOL (ESL) practically and educationally
- He answered the prayers of those who prayed for me
- He has given me confidence and groundedness
- I’ve been embracing silence more often. Silence used to be threatening because I felt alone spiritually and physically.
- I’ve gained the hope of being loved and cherished someday
- I got the opportunity to trust God on a deeper level
- I learned that A + B doesn’t always = C
- He is the redeemer of all redeemers – there is nothing accidental or useless; He uses it all to make beauty! “You cannot amputate your history from your destiny.” Beth Moore
Praise our God, O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard;
he has preserved our lives and kept our feet from slipping.
For you, O God, tested us; you refined us like silver.
You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs.
You let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance.I will come to your temple with burnt offerings and fulfill my vows to you -
vows my lips promised and my mouth spoke when I was in trouble.Come and listen, all you who fear God; let me tell you what he has done for me.
God has surely listened and heard my voice in prayer.
Praise be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me!
Psalm 66, selected verses
Thank you for listening to my “burnt offering.” In the last few months I kept thinking that I would post this kind of blog once Mr. Really Right had showed up and everything was looking rosy again. In my mind I could fast-forward to the day when I’d be gushing about God’s faithfulness and perfect timing while glancing happily at a little diamond on my finger. But tonight I got convicted that the time to acknowledge the good is now. It’s time to make it official: God has shown great love. Even when I don’t feel that way completely, it’s there for everyone to see. He has been busily redeeming and restoring good things all around! He’s not finished, and the sun is rising.
Until next time,
Jen
I realized the video wasn’t playing for y’all – I think it’s fixed now. Still waiting for the right thumbnail to show up, but hopefully that’ll happen tonight.
Spent a great Sunday with Ben and the fam (including Rach via phone and email) at the farm. We had a great day of relaxing and playing outside and in! He even took a nap in the front yard in the grass, all wrapped up like a cocoon in two blankets. :)
Now I’m home and ready to start another week. Saw this come across Paper Cuts tonight: BookExpo America. Wow. Doesn’t this look like fun? Oh my goodness. What a great event to add to the ever-growing “places to go” list. :)
Adio.
Until next time,
Jen
Like a lot of commencement ceremonies, mine included the reading of Dr. Seuss’ Oh, the Places You’ll Go. Having just returned on Monday from a road trip to Nashville, and pondering Ben’s graduation from Wesley coming up in two weeks, I’m thinking about all the places we’ve been and will be.
Ben’s graduation is so bittersweet in every sense of the phrase. Everyone at Wesley graduates when they turn 26, and this is his year. We’ve had plenty of time to prepare for this transition, but I’m not sure it helps – I, for one, have tended to push it back and not think about what it means for him and us.
In one way, it’s a celebration of how much he’s grown and what a great 26-year-old guy he is. He’s always been two things: deeply attached to family, and naturally magnetized to draw people into his circle. Our family is much richer because of his relationships, especially the very dedicated circle of friends at school and his home. Some of them (teachers, aides, administrators, therapists) give their best time and energy every day to help him keep learning, maturing, and developing. And his peers have given him (and us) a community that’s nothing if not unpretentious and honest. There are no masks there; everyone is vulnerable. Everyone is equally, beautifully complicated. I am heart-glad that I got to grow up knowing the kids in his school – Rachel, Beau, Jenny, Chris, Crystal, Tiffany, Tony… . Some of my favorite memories are the hours we spent at school with him and his buddies.
On good days, he’s an amazingly sensitive “big” brother. He loves without reserve. No shame in crying as we leave him at his house after a day at the farm with us. No hesitation on pulling me close and kissing my cheek before I go, sometimes three, four, or five times before I’m allowed to leave. No question that he’s happy to talk to me on the phone, judging from the high-pitched “HIIII Jehhh!” that I hear while Mom hands the phone my way. There’s no doubt that his family is the most important thing in his life, period. It’s something to be loved like that. Something good. We are so proud of the man he’s become.
But, mixed in with the celebration, we’re also reaching another milestone to grieve. For most graduates the day marks another transition to independence, and a move up the ladder of success. For Ben, it marks the end of a very safe place. It forces us to think again about how life would be different if he were normal. While college grads are planning their attack on this job market, my parents and Ben’s teachers are planning their attack on his transition to a new daily routine. Any change is hard for Ben, and a change like this could throw him into emotional chaos and a behavioral hurricane. They’ve been helping him take baby steps for the last few weeks so that the new day program isn’t a complete shift, but it’s still going to be hard. I wish that he was worrying about the stock market or the unemployment rate instead of this. I wish that we could really throw him an open house party instead of limiting the invites so that it isn’t overwhelming. I wish there was some way to describe him so that even if you never meet him, you still get a glimpse of our Ben.
He is strength. Fear. Attachment. Polarity. Hilarity. Love. Shyness. Simplicity. Complexity.
He is courage.
Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow. ~Dan Rather
We’re going on anyhow.
Until next time,
Jen
I love this song. Love the melody, love the vocals, love the lyrics – love it all, except that it’s so short. Oh, and I haven’t seen the movie, so I don’t really love the context. But you can just listen to the music and ignore the video. :)
Will the Sun Ever Shine Again
Composed by Alan Menken and Glenn SlaterRain is pourin’ down like the
Heavens are hurtin’
Seems like it’s been dark since the devil knows when
How do you go on, never knowin’ for certain
Will the sun ever shine again?Feels like it’s been years since it started to thunder
Clouds are campin’ out in the valley and glen
How do you go on, when you can’t help but wonder
Will the sun ever shine again?What if the rain keeps fallin’?
What if the sky stays gray?
What if the winds keep squallin’
And never go away?Maybe soon the storm will be tired of blowin’
Maybe soon it all will be over, amen
How do you go on, if there’s no way of knowin’?
Will the sun ever shine?
Wish I could say
Send me a sign
One little ray
Lord, if you’re listenin’, how long until then?
Will the sun ever shine again?
Until next time,
Jen
It’s funny that I’ve been brimming with things to blog about for at least two weeks, but now that I have time and space to do it, they’ve all disappeared. But it’s the perfect day for blogging and I’m determined to stick it out. Perhaps other people’s words will start.
From Mistress Pat,
“But things are often unfinished in real life,” said Pat….
“All the more reason why they should come right in books,” said Uncle Horace testily. “Real life! We get enough real life living. I like fairy tales. I like a nice snug tidy ending in a book with all the loose ends tucked in.”
I have a friend who doesn’t like movies with snug, tidy endings. I can see where she’s coming from, and I appreciate good honest stories more than saccharine simplistic flicks. But I’m a bit like Uncle Horace – fairy tales are good. In the happy times they echo heaven, and in the bad times they keep hope’s head above water.
That makes me think of this reflection on libraries, the repository of fairy tales and dark nights alike. From In Fact: the best of Creative Nonfiction,
Speaking of libraries: A big open-stack academic or public library is no small pleasure to work in. You’re, say, trying to do a piece on something in Nevada, and you go down to C Floor, deep in the earth, and out to what a miner would call a remote working face. You find 10995-497S just where the card catalog and the online computer thought it would be, but that is only the intial nick. The book you knew about has led you to others you did not know about. To the ceiling the shelves are loaded with books about Nevada. You pull them down, one at a time, and sit on the floor and look them over until you are sitting on a pile five feet high, at which point you are late home for dinner and you get up and walk away. It’s an incomparable boon to research, all that; but it is also a reason why there are almost no large open-stack libraries left in the world.
Lee Gutkind
I love libraries, and I love nonfiction and fiction both. Good writing, no matter what kind it is, adds the sparkles and crimson to life. Won’t it be fun when the new library opens this summer? It’ll be a red-letter day.
By the by, the new car is still delicious. :) It’s still surprising to see it in the driveway through the kitchen window. It still smells like a new car. It still makes me grin when I can open the moonroof on sunny days. It still feels like I don’t deserve the car I searched for and pined after. Last night someone stuck a wad of gum in the fuel tank door – gross! But since the car’s already been broken in, dinged up, and scratched lightly, I didn’t feel so bad. I’ll take good care of the mechanics but I’m not going to worry much about the rest, and that feels good. I would, however, like to have a garage for it this winter. Hmmm.
As for the Escort, Aubrey’s making great headway in learning to shift, and I think she likes having her own little car. It’s fun to ride with her in the driver’s seat!
Speaking of the driver’s seat, I’ve been sitting there more often lately, symbolically speaking (as Tillytuck is fond of saying). Tomorrow is ten months since the door opened and I got deposited on the side of the road, and a lot has changed since then. Good things. In the last couple weeks I’ve been reminded of what my emotions were like for the previous three or four years, and I didn’t like it one bit. It’s good to look back and see the divine hand-holding over the last year. Thanks, God. Those things are looking less like scars – still scars, but hopefully they’re growing into something more like character…. Hopefully. Some days are better than others. :)
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. Ps. 91:4
Until next time,
Jen
I didn’t post this morning, obviously. Instead, I gathered my Bible, journal, Mistress Pat, the Esther Bible study book, and the purple journal and hopped in my car for a morning at the channel. It was gray and cold, but I had a Starbucks gift card, so there was a nice medium latte and a hot egg & bacon sandwich to keep me warmish. It was really, really good to journal and read and think. And then I called Denis and Lidija and had a wonderful 45-minute conversation with them! It had been much too long – I can’t wait to see them again! Man, it would be great to see friends in Split this summer! I really hope it works out.
Anyway, this is the verse I was mulling over this morning.
I will lead her into the desert
and speak tenderly to her.15 There I will give her back her vineyards,
and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.
There she will sing as in the days of her youth,
as in the day she came up out of Egypt. (Hosea 2:14b-15)
I just flipped to it randomly this morning, but it fits well with what we talked about during the Esther study (which unfortunately finished last week. So sad!). God loves to turn it around: taking charge of bad events or circumstances and making them into something wonderful. He did it for Esther, Mordecai, and the Jews in Persia. And he did it in reverse for nasty old Haman!
It’s reassuring to read of God’s cleverness that way. No situation is too messed up. Nothing is a lost cause. Hope is never foolish when we’re hoping on Him. And when I did some background checking on the Valley of Achor, it turned into a really hopeful story. It’s the one about Achan, who stole some of the plunder from people that the Israelites had defeated, which was a big deal because God had said not to keep any of the plunder. Achan hid it under his tent. Meanwhile, Joshua led the army to war against some different enemies, a battle that should have been easily won by just a small portion of Israel’s army. Instead, they were whipped soundly and lost thirty-five of their men. Joshua was floored and felt awful, and he went back to God to find out what in the world just happened. And that’s where I related to Joshua for the first time. I’ve read this story before but I never put myself in Joshua’s place. From what I can tell, he was doing what he was supposed to do and he thought he was in line with God’s plan. But Achan had a mind of his own and his actions completely messed up Joshua’s life, plus the lives of the men who were fighting. It was horrible! I can empathize with Joshua’s confusion, frustration, helplessness and anger!
But what’s really cool is that Hosea talks about that situation being turned into a door of hope! In fact, the story ends with the Israelites ambushing and defeating the city (the second time’s the charm!) and then gathering to hear Joshua read the law of God. In other words, peace and possession of God’s promises, and a renewal of their relationship with Him. So encouraging! (Except for Achan and his family, who were thoroughly destroyed. Ouch.)
Anyway, that’s what came of all the journaling and thinking this morning.
This afternoon I went to see Grandma for a little while (good excuse to spend more time in the car!) and did some shopping at the antique mall and the Gap outlet. And then I spent time with our refugee family and a family from church – we walked to a park and it was so fun to see the baby experience his first ride in a swing! Lots of giggles! But the walk and the wind and the desire to be a conversation facilitator (one of my weakest qualities) has tuckered me out and I’m ready for bed! Tomorrow is 2’s nursery, then church, then home to see Ben and spend a wonderful afternoon at the farm (with a few spins around the block in my car, I’m sure!).
Until next time,
Jen
Sometimes it seems like a lot has happened but not much has changed. Time is a funny thing.
Anyway, you’ll probably hear more from me tomorrow morning, since it’s a Saturday without work and I had kept my schedule open so that I could work if I needed to. Maybe it’s time for another quick trip to Zeeland!
Until next time,
Jen
This week eight years ago, I bought my first car. It was a 1996 Ford Escort, dark green two-door hatchback manual transmission. I was very happy with it! I think I researched my options for at least three months, probably more like six, and narrowed it down to a Dodge Neon or a Ford Escort. So glad I got the Escort! If I had more time, I’d scan the picture of me and the car after I brought it home - you can tell I’m proud of it. It had 67k miles and was in very good shape. Over the years I’ve done minimal maintenance (basically just changed the oil every 3,000 miles) and had to do very few repairs, and it’s gotten me everywhere on about 35-40 miles a gallon. Very handy when gas was $4/gallon last summer!
This week I bought my second car. It’s a 2003 Pontiac Vibe, dark red four-door hatchback automatic transmission. I am very happy with it! I researched my options for at least a year, maybe more, and narrowed it down to a dark red 2003-2005 Vibe with a moonroof and no gray trim. This is it!
I am very proud of it. :) It has 111k miles and is in pretty good shape – a few more chips and scratches than the Escort has, but there’s also quite a bit more surface area than the Escort. :) And there are no dents! Actually, I’m quite relieved that it’s already been broken in and I don’t have to worry about parking in no man’s land or getting upset when a new scratch shows up. I was kinda worried about how I’d handle that if I got a newer car.
Anyway, I’m hopeful that we’ll get by with regular oil changes and very few repairs, and it should get at least 35 mpg. And that’s where the similarities end. Although the Escort was probably a better deal (5 years old compared to 6, $3,300 less and 40k fewer miles), I’m super excited about the upgrades!
- A passenger door that works easily and reliably
- A driver’s seatbelt that’s in one piece (don’t worry, Dad & Mom – it was functional)
- Rear defrost and wiper
- An engine with get up and GO!
- CD player
- Outdoor temperature display
- Cruise control
- Automatic transmission
- Dome lights
- Large cupholders
- Moonroof
- Roof rack
- Power windows and locks and mirrors
- Air conditioning
- 115v outlet
- Easy-access hatchback
- A key-fob doodad that locks and unlocks
Plus, I think it’s pretty stinkin’ cute. Time for a road trip! :)
Until next time,
Jen
