real ageNobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals…You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair. ~ Samuel Ullman
the beauty of friendshipWe met David and Faith in Lamaze class.
She was blond, chatty, and beautiful. We were both 8 months pregnant with our first children. A friendship developed that has spanned since. Those babies, Leslie and Jarrod, will turn 28 in a couple of months.
We raised our kids together. We spent a lot of Friday nights playing cards, cooking, playing with our kids. But as time passed, our lives took separate paths. They lived in one city, we lived in another. Faith and David and their kids were into competitive horse shows and events. We were sitting on benches watching kids playing soccer and basketball.
We saw each other infrequently: weddings, special events, the hard times–when I found out I had cancer. If you were to ask either of us, we would say we were really great friends, but getting together just seemed hard.
I’ve been in a goal making process these past three months. As I sorted through what really matters, one goal surfaced: friendship.
Have you ever been so busy that friends fall to the side? You think about them. You love them. When you do connect, it’s good, but actual time with them is not really happening? Sometimes it seems my life is so full with ministry, family, writing, my home church, travel. I love my life, but I also love my friendships and somehow that aspect had been squeezed out.
So I’ve made a couple of goals in this area. They are not overly ambitious, but it does include making time for friend time with old friends and perhaps even developing new friendships.
This weekend was a reminder of what I have been missing.
I didn’ t mean to cram a couple month’s goals into one weekend, but it just seemed to work out that way.
Lissa is a writing friend. Three years ago she and her husband moved from Colorado Springs, CO to Siloam Springs, AR, just 45 minutes away. We’ve e-mailed back and forth and tried to make plans, and this weekend was free for all of us!
We spent Saturday hiking with Lissa and Rich. We hiked up Sparrow Hawk trails and chatted while we caught our breath and enjoyed the beautiful view from the bluff. Lissa and I talked nonstop about writing: the struggles, the fun, the challenges.
Goal accomplished! Amazing friend time.
By coincidence, another friend had asked us to come watch our beloved Sooners game with her and her husband this weekend, but we didn’t think it was possible. When Rich and Lissa left we realized that the game didn’t start for an hour, so we jumped in the car and drove an hour in the other direction. We ate, laughed, was grieved over the loss to Miami by one point, and played a few games of ping-pong (guess who won!).
After church on Sunday we spent time with family. As we were driving home we just happened to be in a familiar area.
“Let’s stop. Just for a minute,” Richard said.
How could we pass David and Faith’s home and not stop in?
That “minute” turned into three hours. Jarrod was there with his one-year-old son. He wanted to hear stories about when he was a little guy. He lit up when we told him that Jace reminded us of him.
David and Faith now have four grandchildren by their two oldest sons, and we marveled at how busy their home was as kids (and grandkids) stopped in an out to say hello.
We walked outside while their menagerie (I counted at least 8 dogs and four cats and lots more horses) followed us around.
It was as if time hadn’t passed. Though Faith is a young grandma, she’s still blond and striking. Going to her house was a treat when my children were small. We never knew what to expect. She always had new kittens in the barn, or a new colt in the pasture. She lives life filled with animals and people, and wouldn’t have it any other way.
As we drove home, I was tired. It was a FULL weekend. But filled with good things–laughter, talking, catching up, knowing that even though lots of years had passed that bond was still there, and creating new bonds with new friends.
We’ll try to space it out a little, but friendship is definitely a worthy goal–and one I won’t let slip away quite so easily this time.
Thank you, Lord, for reminding me of the beauty of friendship.
throw-away childrenI remember driving down the street in El Salvador. A little girl stood by the side of the road, her long thin legs exposed to the thigh.
“She’s a prostitute,” the missionary said. “Most likely mom or dad is addicted.”
I looked back. I saw little faces in a nearby bush sprouting out of the hot sidewalk.
That trip I spent a lot of time at the rescue house, painting, working in the hot sun. I traveled to the slums with the team who brought nourishment, both spiritual and physical, to children and families. We spent time at the King’s Castle, a beautiful oasis for children in the stark reality of suffering.
I cried myself to sleep every night that trip. It was simply overwhelming — the needs. I had seen poverty before on other trips. Happy families with little compared to our exorbitant lifestyles in the US, but never throw-away children. Never hoards of children begging in the streets. Never baby girls prostituting themselves to feed daddy’s addiction. Never children with burn marks, missing limbs, and strap marks across their flesh.
This weekend I watched Slumdog Millionaire, a movie about a boy from India who against all odds won 20,000,000 rupees on the show ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?’. But his prize wasn’t money. It was the final freedom for a little girl, now a young woman, who had suffered along with him as “slumdogs”.
As we watched my husband nodded his head when I asked, “Really? Could children suffer so much there?” It was even worse than what I saw in El Salvador.
“I’ve been close to there,” he said, remembering his trip to Bangladesh. “I’ve seen blind children begging and singing in the streets. I’ve seen those crowds of children with beat up silver pans begging for money.”
What can one person do? It’s a question that anyone exposed to suffering asks, but particularly when a child suffers.
Yesterday I told my mother-in-law about Buli, the little girl I sponsor from India. I told her how that $38 a month takes care of her physical and educational needs, how it makes her safe.
“How is that possible,” she asked. “$38, really?”
Really.
It’s one thing we can all do. It’s one dinner out for the fam at a pizza place. It’s less than one month’s cable.
It removes the label “throwaway” and replaces it with nurtured, fed, safe, a child with a future.
It’s a real-life rescue for one child that is life changing — and it’s tangible.
who loves conflict?
I don’t. I don’t!
But real people encounter real conflict. Can I be honest? I hate it. And my first instinct isn’t always the best approach. And yet how I handle it is key.
Sometimes it’s important to take a step back. What is the intention? Is it malicious or a misunderstanding?
Is it important to wait for a moment — or two — or maybe a day — before responding?
Have I prayed about it?
Have I tried to see it from their side?
What are they trying to say?
If it’s malicious, then I don’t engage. It won’t help. Walking away is a healthy response. I can’t make someone else play nice. I have no control over anything, but my response.
If it’s a mistake or a misunderstanding, I have an opportunity to work it through until we do understand, or we compromise.
How do I do that?
Do listen. Do sort through what was said. Do clarify what you believe they said. Do ask if there is a workable solution or compromise.
Don’t get angry. Don’t lose temper. Don’t be ugly. Don’t accuse. Don’t say hurtful things.
This was one of the lessons that was the hardest to learn for me, and yet one of the most powerful. Rather than conflict being used to harm me or others, it became a tool to communicate and come to an understanding–if at all possible. And if not, to take responsibility for my actions and my response, and to not try to fix anyone else.
Conflict, anyone?
as promised, 50th bday bash pics
This is a pic of my family. From left to right: Leslie, me and Richard, Melissa, my SIL Steve (Leslie’s hubby), my SIL Josh (Melissa’s husband), Ryan, my DIL Kristin (Ryan’s wife).
Let’s do the limbo!
Me and the Ricko! Isn’t he handsome?
Richard and our daughter Melissa
bday poster
My sister, Richard, and me!
friends and family
If I knew that turning 50 would be this much fun, I would have turned 50 a long time ago! Today is the official birthday and I’m grateful a hundred times over for life, health, family, love, and most of all Jesus.
His grace has truly marked my life, which leads to the last picture. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, but hesitated. Some don’t like these, and I’m not out to be controversial. But God has so marked my life with His grace that I wanted a symbolic mark to remind me how Jesus touched my life over 30 years ago and I’ve never been the same.
His love transformed me. This is Hebrew script for “grace”.
A FB culprit is on the loose…What do you do if they’re too old to spank? I mean, way too old?
This week my kids are making lots of phone calls, putting together my 50th bday bash on Saturday (pics and video next week, I promise!). One day I came home and several of my picture frames were empty. It was only a couple, so I wasn’t too worried.
I should have been.
The next day years and years of pictures showed up on Facebook. Suzie as a baby. Suzie as an awkward teen. Suzie in her 8th grade prom dress. Suzie pregnant. Suzie with 80′s hair.
You get the picture.
And so did lots of others.
When I asked my son (I knew it was him) why? He replied, “Because I like them, mom. That’s why.”
Did I mention I love my son like crazy, even though I wasn’t so crazy about the pics showing up on FB.
Since they are already on the WWW for everyone to see, I thought I’d share a laugh or two with you today in honor of the big 5-0 coming my way.
When I speak I often try to describe how skinny I was. Perhaps a pic tells a thousand words.
One commentor said this made them want to eat a hot dog… Personally I loved my mustard yellow 8th grade prom dress.
High school senior pic. This was my attempt at the Maxi dresses that were in vogue. I think it came across as a country girl. They arm on the hay stack just confirms it.
Remember Glamour Shots? This was taken in 1991 right before my chemo. I wanted to have a picture with hair — and man, did I have hair!
My fam.
Man, oh man, I love this group of people.
Including the FB culprit in the back and center with the ball cap.
Love you guys,
Suzie
Proverbs 31 Ministries speaker columnist, and author T. Suzanne Eller shares how to live free when you've felt broken, how to nurture family regardless of the obstacles, and how to deepen intimacy with a relevant and life-changing Savior.
