Still running for the cheese (or why this blog still exists)

As my regular readers can tell, this has been a dry year for me. Just look at the number of posts this year vs. 2008! Awhile back, I had considered either shutting down the Maze, or starting a new blog that would more accurately reflect where I am in life now. Truth be told, sometimes I come here, look around, and feel distinctly hypocrytical about the things I want to write. I'm sure I'm not the only one to ever be in that kind of place.
As the time in between posts has grown longer, I came to realize something. Without the past years' material, where I am now makes very little sense. What good is the destination without the journey? As Christians, so much of the best stuff that happens to us is in the times God is molding us to His image. To throw away the evidence of that process would somehow cheapen the result, I think.
So, here we are, dear friends. I think my little mousie may just have rounded a corner finally. Some things will change around here to reflect the changes in my heart. And you know what? That's ok. As much as I typically rage against anything changed in my life, I'm learning to accept the God-given ones. My prayer is that some of you may be encouraged by what you read here. Hey, you may even be challenged. And of course, if you know me, then you know you always stand a good chance of being offended too. Not intentionally, to be sure! Just know that what you find as you wander this Maze with me may surprise you as much as it does me.

All that to say this:

Welcome to

Sunday, July 6, 2008

That ol' memory lane

Recently, I was blessed to be able to visit a dear friend and her new daughter. Now, granted, as a mom of boys, I know next to nothing about raising a small thing covered in pink, but I'm betting the logistics are the same in those early days.
What a blessing that visit was! Between Tank recently turning 5 (and how did that happen without my permission?!?!) and my bouts of baby fever, it was alternately strange and sweet to hold her little one. Mr. P. came with me so that we could give her a hand in whatever she may have needed around the house, including a healthy dose of adult conversation. Seeing him cuddling with the baby started my heart down that famed road of remembrance I've heard so much about.
Nostalgia has never been my strong suit. There's been far too much in my life I've cared to forget, and not much I've wanted to preserve in my heart of hearts. The rare moment when I find myself swept away by a sweet memory, well, let's say that I find myself in one of 2 states. That would be either unable to cope or simply thanking God for giving me that moment, both past and present. (I say unable to cope because, alas, I am unequipped to handle the good things in life it often seems. A flashback of childhood abuse? Yeah I can cope effectively with that. A memory of holding my own children when they were smaller? Good Lord in Heaven above help me.)
It turned out that the Lord decided to save the strangest of personal revelations for last that day. In talking with my friend, answering questions about what was normal for babies at that stage, and giving her encouragement that the exhaustion and helpless feelings don't last forever (her baby is going through colic and that can be a very challenging thing, as many of us with older children know), a funny thing occurred to me. For the first time in my life, I felt like an adult. That may sound quite odd, but bear with me. For as long as I can remember, my parents drilled into my head that I would never "grow up". I would forever be immature, and a brat. Ok so they did not put it so nicely, but you see where this is going? I know that's why I look forward to my 30th birthday with such glee. Perhaps then, I'll finally have arrived to adulthood.
How weird and wonderful, that gift from both God and my friend, to feel "adult" and experienced but in a wholesome way in that moment. A taste of normalcy I rarely experience. And it just goes to show another of His blessings in the gift of children. Much healing has taken place in my life since I've become a mother. Being able to give my children a home that's pure of heart is maybe the greatest gift that those little boys have given me.
This little trip down memory lane has allowed me glimpse of the girl I once was. Broken, battered in spirit, and full of rage at the world. I've come a long way, only by the grace of God. The scars upon me are still quite red and vivid, but so much of that brokenness has been repaired by the simple gifts of this family of mine. I'm definitely a different woman than I was just a few months ago. I look forward to the woman God is molding me to be in coming years. I wonder just what I'll think of myself when I look back down that ol' memory lane a few years from now. Let's hope it's something good.

Til next squeak,

1 Squeaks from the Maze:

Cat. said...

Hee. I can relate a little. As the WAAAAYYY youngest of my siblings, I'm still getting the message that, while numerically I'm in my 40s, they still see me stuck at age 7 or 8. Very frustrating. It is a strange and wonderful feeling to actually KNOW something someone else doesn't!

Plus you got to hold a baby. I'm envious of that, bigtime! hee

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