Gus Was A Friendly Ghost

This post was originally written and saved as a draft in February 2013. I don't know why I didn't publish it. Maybe it was too personal? Who knows...

~O~

When Maggie and Ty were in 2nd grade and not too keen on reading, we recorded an audiobook. Not just any plain old audiobook, but one complete with sound effects. Gus Is A Friendly Ghost was their favorite at the time. Ty was the voice of Mouse. Maggie was the voice of Gus. I was the Narrator.

*subject change

Last week I had the flu. I am a great big baby. You may not know that, but it's true. I'm a lot whinier than I like to think I am. So on Thursday, my wonderful sister came and got my two youngest. Then that night, Maggie and Ty left for the Youth Ski Trip. Chris was working. I was alone. I slept a lot. I watched a lot of movies... Stranger Than Fiction, Pride and Prejudice, My Fair Lady, Singin' in the Rain, The Artist, Sherlock (the BBC tv show). I slept some more.

As I started feeling better I noticed that the things I had cleaned were.... staying clean. The food level in the pantry was no longer magically disappearing. The toilet paper roll stayed full. It was quiet. Like, really, really quiet.

Chris and I talked about it. Talked about how strange it will be when the kids are gone from home. There were some definite perks. Money, tidiness, etc. But then we stood quietly and let it sink in. Then we cried a little and were very grateful that it's not time to turn them into the world yet.

*subject shift

Tonight, all my kids were home again. We sat around the table after eating our spaghetti and talked for hours. Maggie and Ty told stories from their trip. Gracie told stories about Kim and Nana. The youngers drifted off to their rooms and devices. Maggie and Ty, Chris and I sat and spoke of faith, leadership, servant's hearts, Springville Church. Ty said, with tears in his eyes, that he really loves Springville church. (a balm and blessing to this mother's heart). Maggie talked about sharing the gospel with a couple of girls and asked advice.

After dinner Ty helped we clean the kitchen and then we got talking about books. The book we're reading now for school (Heart of Darkness) and what we should read next (The Old Man and the Sea?). We talked about books we studied/read over the years. His favorites were Danny and the Dinosaur, Ferdinand, and .... Gus Was A Friendly Ghost.

I pulled out that old cassette tape and tape player while Ty grabbed the book. Before we were three pages in, the whole family was standing at the kitchen counter, listening and laughing. It was precious and wonderful and one of those rare, beautiful, perfect moments.

They asked me to read them a bedtime story (Sylvester and the Magic Pebble). Now they are all tucked into their beds. And they are happy.

I am grateful. Grateful for the today we've had, but also so thankful for the precious time that I spent with them as little ones. The hardship, tears, trials, exhaustion, selfishness and fears have faded away into a haze and on nights like tonight, all I know is that it was worth it.

~O~

I read through my old drafts tonight, of which there are 40. This one was the most complete and the most nostalgic. I used to blog about my kids all the time. And about motherhood. I don't much anymore and I've been asked why. For the longest time I didn't know why I quit blogging about my kids and about motherhood. I think it's because my kids got older and it became an invasion of their privacy. As they got older, their struggles, questions, relationships, well... everything got more personal and the chance of shaming them or betraying them was more than I wanted to risk. Even now, the things they talk to me about are too... what's the right word? Important. The things they struggle with are oftentimes someone else's secret or their own private struggle. I could never share that.

As my family has gotten older life has grown exponentially more complicated. Money is tighter with college and cars. Relationships are harder to navigate. Decisions become life-altering. Mistakes can easily lead to shame apart from the gospel. Making the transition from the mother of a child to mother of an adult is daunting and awkward and confusing on both sides. Sometimes I feel as unsure of myself now as I did when my oldest was a baby. Maybe even more.

I am thankful for God's faithfulness to me. He is still faithful to me as a mother and as a wife. He shows kindness to me through my children and when I see their faith maturing I feel such joy and gratitude

Marriage

What does it mean to be one flesh? Marriage, I know, is more than just a legal contract. More than a committed agreement between two parties. More than the cultural view. Scripture calls it "one flesh", but what does that mean?

Chris and I are coming up on 25 years. I could type out the banal thoughts that flow into my mind, but I'll spare you. Yes, it's flown by. Yes, it's hard to believe. Yes, we've been through so much together. But it cannot be just the passing of time that brings oneness. If it did then you would never see divorces after 15 or 20 or even 40 years. There is something else.

I look at couples who mentored us and walked us through the early years; they've been married 35+ years now. I look at my in-laws who were married for over 50. I see a sweetness that I never knew possible. There is a depth and camaraderie, a knowing and liking. When I ask them about this, they shrug and profess themselves amazed at the mystery of it as well.

...

Chris left his food in the fridge on Friday morning when he left for his two days at the hospital in Anniston. I didn't really have much going on so I drove it up there. It's about an hour away so I don't go there often. Plus he stays super busy so he wouldn't have time to see me even if I did. When we were first married, and even after the first two kids were born, I would sometimes drive up there for lunch. It's been over a decade since I've done that. ... there is something altering about seeing Chris in his medical element. It's a side I don't ever really see.

Chris-at-work is different from Chris-at-home. And seeing him there, in that work setting, sparked something in my heart. When he sees me standing on the porch waiting when he drives up the driveway, or when he walks in the door while I'm rushing around getting ready for work, I visibly see something in him relax. Like all the tension just drains away.

When his Daddy was dying, he needed me beside him, not because I'm good at medical things or have encouraging things to say, but because my presence gives him strength and stability. He tells me this a lot.

Sometimes young married women remark on my marriage and chalk it up to me being an amazing wife or Chris being this perfect husband. I've known for a very long time that that cannot be it. We're both selfish and grumpy and willful. And I've been trying to figure out what makes this marriage of ours so beautiful.

I wonder now if it's because we've become each other's safe place. To know that this other person, this man, has seen me groaning with the pains of childbirth and crying with the confusion of a mother with mental illness. He's called me out when I have lost my temper with our kids and been bewildered by my wildly fluctuating hormones. He's endured 15 years of tedious homeschooling and my whining about a million dumb things. He's fought and screamed with me, loved and laughed with me. And he's died to himself over and over and over and over and over and over...

That's it. That's the thing, isn't it? It's not the experiences; it's our response to them. It's not that he's seen me at my worst; it's that he's seen me at my worst and then responded to me with faith. He's humbled himself and given up his felt needs in order to serve me. He's forgiven me, truly forgiven me, time after time. And it's not just on his part. I have forgiven him over and over, and extended grace to him when I just wanted to demand my rights.

This "one flesh" business is hard work because it goes against everything fallen in us. To crucify my flesh is, by its very nature, a bloody business. It's not excusing him. It's not forgetting about it. It's a concerted effort by faith to forgive and "let love cover a multitude of sins". It is repentance, individually and as a couple. It is hard.

My friend June says of a mutual interest of ours, "Don't tell people it will be fun. Tell them the truth: it will be hard, but it's worth it."

All truth is God's truth. Marriage is hard but so worth it. And sometimes it really is fun.

Now, ask me again in another 25 years, if this theory of mine holds true.