Dear Me 30 Years Ago,

There's a new book for teenage girls called Graceful: Letting Go of Your Try Hard Life, I haven't read it but it looks promising. I don't know if a teenager like I was would ever even get their hands on a book like that, it doesn't look like there is a  chapter for the ones who gave up trying hard and just didn't care. But I think there are common threads for all girls. Here's my letter to myself 30 years ago in the middle of those icky years when I didn't know anything but thought I knew it all  because they need us to remember.

Thirty years ago you were half way through the worst years of your life.  Seeped in drugs and alcohol you really didn't know where you were going or what you wanted in life.  You were 17, graduated from high school (by some miracle, by senior year you hardly went to school),  moved out of your home and living with your boyfriend. What happened?
 

9th Grade Earl B. Wood Jr. High 1978

That year, just a few years earlier, that year you moved from the only town you knew in your freshman year of high school, all the way to Maryland, because your parents split up, not your fault.  Yes 500 miles from home, 500 miles from your father, 500 miles from those sweet people at the baptist church your neighbors brought you too. They prayed for you all the years you were away. Those were effectual prayers.

You should really take that mustard seed of faith you were given and let it grow, but somehow it just got buried, not to emerge for years and years.

The next move just a year later to other side of the beltway, Mum did what she needed to do. Yes subsidized housing, Dad couldn't help, could barely help himself, again not your fault. Yes, a very different culture than the quaint neighborhoods in New England but really would things have been different if you had stayed?

Christmas 1980?

There is really no way to go back and stop you from taking that first drag of a cigarette, or that first sip of beer, that first toke on a joint; no way to stop you from kissing that boy in your friend's basement.  You probably would have done it no matter where you lived.  You were sad and angry and just wanted to be loved. Also did not want any restraints. If I could go back and tell you anything it would be stop being so selfish...yikes you treated your family so harshly. Your younger brother and sister, well your mother thought you were taking care of them after school, yes that's right, while you are off looking for fun your 2nd and 3rd grade siblings were latch key kids, fending for themselves. But that's no completely your fault either.
 
OK, so there's more I'd like to tell you. Don't hitch-hike!  Yes, those were different times, but really so dangerous, do you know how protected you were, God was preserving you, but really did you have to?  Read more books, please, you could have learned so much, so much sooner.  Find and befriend the nice people, what was it with you and all the kids on the fringe of society?  I'm glad you didn't try to fit in but really, did you have to go so far the other way? Don't let lack of finances stop you from going to college!  You could have finished the 4 year degree, really.  Smile more, yes crooked teeth and all. 

There is a strange irony, that probably isn't too uncommon, going on under it all.  You are terribly insecure, don't think much of your self or you abilities, yet you are also very proud, afraid to ask for help or to be inquisitive.  It's an awful combination.  Please don't be afraid to ask questions and be curious about finding truth.

I can't go back and stop you from leaving home at 17 and bringing your boyfriend with you. There are lasting regrets and repercussions I won't go into here.  But just know that boy does grow up and eventually gets his act together and just last year, 29 years later, sought you out to say he was sorry. And you said you were sorry too.

I wish I could tell you it gets better after he leaves, but it doesn't.  I can't stop you from searching for love in all the wrong places or from chasing one high after another. But it never satisfies. You really believed that if the right guy, and you were pretty specific about who the right guy would be, would choose you then you'd be happy. 

You eventually reach bottom and start to dig your way out of the deep dark woods, but not before having a baby out of wed lock. That baby boy, wow, he changes your life, helps get you thinking about the future.  He's doing great by the way. An amazing young man! And his father, well he said he was sorry too.

Clueless Mama

That searching for love in all the wrong places, it doesn't really stop there. You gave up the drugs and drinking, a big step in the right direction, and even became a mother. You have a few more years though. Eventually you find a sweet man, perfect for you, kind and gentle, and you get married.  Not exactly happily ever after, there are trials and sorrows, but you're still with him and will be ever after because you are committed.  Happily is a choice we make and I have to make it every day. You are mother to 5 children that God has seen fit to entrust to you, for just a little while, young souls to raise. Two are mostly raised, one is almost there, and the last two, well they have a ways to go.  But I'm getting off track.

Wedding Day 1991

Lake Anne 2011  Front Row Anna, Ruth, Sam, Ryan, Michael and Michael's girlfriend Maggie

Dear Me 30 Years Ago,

Somehow in God's economy all the taking you did to try to fill up that hole, all the selfishness of trying to make your self happy, it was wrong. It served a purpose in some odd way though, because when you look back you see how desperately you need a Savior.

Just the same, I wish I could go back and save you from it all a little sooner, tell the 15 year old me, tell you in a way that you really get it, that there is only one perfect lover. And that He is the lover of your soul not just your body. And he'll take you just the way you are, crooked teeth, insecurities, fears and failures. 

You will find that out, but it takes about ten more years. The Hound of Heaven pursues you and you keep running away. Finally though your heart is captured. And thus begins the real journey, one of dying to self for a greater joy. You've been given an eternal hope and all those wasted years are redeemed. Praise the Lord.

mornings

dark summer morning
before the birds awake
I hear the cicadas rhythmic hum
have they been up all night?

I meditate on words just read
but am interrupted
by duties I dread

the day has trouble enough it's true

so I wait for peace to pursue

I make my list and face my dread
While words like this give me my daily bread:

"do not be anxious about your life...instead seek his kingdom..."
and ease your strife.

Crashing Waves

As if the ocean's rage

Could be tamed by a young girl's will,

Steady legs brace, bronze arms stretch,

Ready for the thrill

Holding firm she seems almost to win

But the rushing water breaking knocks her down again.

Through salty foam she jumps up smiling,

She knows it is a game,

And once again gets ready for the next crashing wave.

Borrowing "Time"

Time

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.

Home
Home again
I like to be here
When I can

When I come home
Cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones
Beside the fire

Far away
Across the field
Tolling on the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spell

"Time" as written by Ernie Parada
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, T.R.O. INC., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., EMI Music Publishing

Image Bearer

Little image bearer

Growing in the dark

Who should choose your fate?

While you are formed so perfectly

Within a woman’s womb,

Without there seems a choice to make,

To decide if there is room.

No money, no love, too young, too old

Circumstances don’t seem right.

To those who think they have to choose,

It seems a hopeless plight.

We know it’s really life,

Not just a blob of cells

We see the baby on the screen

Her fingers and her toes

We hear the heart beat at three weeks;

The beat that tells the truth.

So why, as if we’re God,

Do we even try to make excuse?

Why do we think the choice to kill

Will not come back and haunt?

It will. What could have been

Will over shadow every waking thought.

Little image bearer

Growing in the dark

Who will choose your fate?

words

inadequate words to express what I think
can never get it right
want to think clearly but it's all a jumble
confusion in my plight

full of compartments in my brain
so many facets of my life
can't seem to sort through it all
words become strife

the roles that I play mix into a scrambled mess
how can wife, mother, teacher, reader,
disciple, believer all mesh
only through The Word I guess...

faith in the one whose word is perfect
the only one right
trust that my words don't have to go forth
He's in charge of my plight

I don't have to express
I don't have to impress
I don't have to obsess
I can simply rest

There is a place on the lawn this morn
That won't shed it's frost
The shadows stay and keep it cold
Until sun shines on that spot

There is a place on my soul this morn
That is as cold as frost
The shadows are deep and old
Until Son shines on that spot

I want to feel the warmth
That love brings to my heart
Gratitude for love will
Melt away that frost