Lately I’ve been thinking about my tongue and how hard it is to control! This is nothing new for me. When I was young and my words often got me into trouble my Mom would say, “Susan it’s not what you are saying it’s how you are saying it.” My husband has often mentioned the same thing to me, so I know it’s a legitimate criticism. It’s so easy for me to come across as bossy, arrogant, or critical without even realizing it.
When we were kids we learned the rhyme, “Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me." Nothing could be further from the truth. Words hurt, words are remembered, and words are hard to take back. This is true no matter how old we are.
As our own children move into their adult years we realize how important our words are and how careful we need to be in what we say and how we say it. This becomes even more important when we have in-law children. During this season we are also learning that it’s more important simply to listen than to offer advice. And that’s hard. After all, we’ve spent most of our life advising and directing our kids.
This week I read Proverbs 16. This one Proverb has enough on the use of words to make anyone pause. “The wise in heart are called discerning, and pleasant words promote instruction. A wise man’s heart guides his mouth and his lips promote instruction. Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones” (Proverbs 16: 21, 23-24).
Last weekend my husband and I went away to do some planning for the year. As empty nesters it seemed odd to leave our now quiet home to go find a place of quiet. We actually contemplated for a short time not going, but we both knew from experience that the quiet of our home would be easily interrupted by the telephone, the television, the laundry, the kitchen, and the Christmas decorations that haven’t yet been put away. Without little people in my house who would play with, scatter, and break our ornaments and garlands, the urgency to put them in the attic is not there. How nice to not have that pressure. Maybe by February I’ll get them put away.
We stayed in a B&B that was nice but not as comfortable as home. Is that a sign of getting old? Hmmmm . . . But we did find what we needed by getting away–––time together without distractions to think and talk. And it was delightful.
I’ve decided this new season of life is better than the others. I would have never believed it possible. How could getting older and not having our kids around be a good thing? But it is wonderful in its own way, like a finely aged wine, or a beautiful old building full of character and charm and comfort. Our marriage is like that now, and I wouldn’t trade it with the relationship we had in our youth for anything.
One of the things I’m learning in this phase of my Empty Nest is to put my plans in pencil rather than in ink. You see, basically I’m a detail planner. Ok, a controller, your classic “A” type personality. I always blamed it on having five kids in seven years. I was forced to plan or my home was chaos. (It usually was anyway!) However, the older I’ve become the more I’ve realized it’s really just how I’m packaged. There are good things about it but negatives as well. There can be a tendency to make plans and simply ask God to bless them. I have a hard time saying “no” and tend to overbook. My self image is too wrapped up in what I accomplished today.
I’m beginning to see a change. As I walk longer in the Empty Nest I feel less compulsive. I sense that I’m more willing to allow God to interrupt my plans without fretting. I see that He has other things in store that are even better than my plans.
From time to time in this blog, Susan and I will share opportunities with you that we believe are worth passing on. In our book we challenge empty nest women to give the second half of their lives to kingdom purposes. One of the greatest needs on our planet right now is the crisis facing millions of orphans, which I’ve written about before.
Today I was reading an article that I want to pass on to you. I can’t reprint the entire article here as it is too long, but I want to quote a paragraph or two that called me to take some action on behalf of one orphan. I hope you will feel that same tug on your heart and that some of you will get involved with this organization.
Kimberly Smith, President of Make Way Partners, writes, “I had the blessing of stumbling upon a little boy named John. John told me he thinks he is five years old. That is what his mother told him before she and his little sister died. John did not cry as he told me about his mama. He just said that he missed her because she was his only friend. His father died before John was old enough to remember him.”
I have an old, faded blue, quilted jacket that has huge pockets. Somehow, just because they are big they always seem to be full of “stuff.” From balled up post-its to receipts to M&M wrappers and a stray pen or two. It’s just a place to stuff things that I don’t have time to deal with. When it gets too full I clean it out.
Sometimes my life gets too full. Because we live in the Washington D.C. area we have lots of visitors. But it’s not just our location, it’s who we are. We have big families; we have a lot going on; and basically we are “people” people. But sometimes I get tired. My life seems too packed. I get what I call “peopled––out.” I long to empty my life, to be alone and to have some space. I long for quiet.
Today was one of those days. So I ran away to some woods and took a hike all by myself. There was a freezing, misty rain which coated the naked branches painting a glaze all about me. The only noise was the crunch of my feet on leaves crusted with ice. When I stood still, I drank in the silence and the wet mist. It felt like a blanket of peace wrapping its arms around me.
I do not like to wait. I don’t like to wait for things to happen, for relationships to be fixed, for problems to be solved, for enlightenment to come, for suffering to end, for God to work. I don’t know anyone who really enjoys waiting. But life is full of waiting.
I often tell mothers of young children to teach their kids to learn to wait–––to wait for their turn to play with a toy, to be able to purchase something they really want, to wait to be allowed to . . .
If they begin to learn to wait when they are young they will be more likely to wait for sexual satisfaction until married, to wait for the promotion they desire instead of cheating their way to achieve, to wait for a relationship to heal instead of quitting.
One of the difficult things about having adult children is watching them have to wait. Our mother instinct wants to fix things; after all we spent many of their early years doing just this. It is hard because it’s an ingrained habit, born of love that’s hard to break. But now we watch as our adult child has to wait for a job, wait as she struggles with infertility, wait for the mate that hasn’t appeared, or . . .
As Moms we suffer for them. Most of the time there is nothing we can do. Sometimes there’s something we want to do but we should not. They are adults now. We should not bail them out. So what can we do when we watch our children in the hard place of waiting?
This year our family shrunk at Christmas. From the overall total of twenty-seven people in our clan to last year’s Christmas gathering of ten to this year’s grand total of only five. Every year it seems to change shape.
Dennis and I and Rebecca and Jacob flew to Washington, DC to spend Christmas with our youngest who is in her first big job and could not take off any day other than the 26th. She thought it a great travesty to have to work on Christmas Eve, this daughter who still thinks like a college student, who gets four to five weeks of vacation between semesters. “I don’t like being a grown-up” she repeated more than once.
It was our delight to host these three of our kids in Laura’s house for five days while her roommates were all away with their families. We cooked a lot, relaxed a lot, played games, went to church and had an evening out to see Les Miserables in the theatre.
I’m especially grateful for Jacob’s willingness to give Rebecca what she wanted for Christmas: time with her family whose love she needed to feel up close again. And it was our joy to honor their Molly with our gifts this year. Laura gave them a donation to Molly’s Fund as her gift. Ashley sent an adorable pink ornament with Molly’s photo in it. Dennis and I gave them a painting of Molly’s name. It’s a tradition I’ve done with each of our grandchildren, to paint their name with little children adorning each of the letters. When Molly was born this summer and before she died, Rebecca asked if I would still do her name and, of course, I said yes. I’d already decided I would. (Please see posts from June 19-26 to read more about Molly’s precious, short life.)
Our daughter Libby had her first baby early last fall. After being married seven years she was very much looking forward to this incredible gift. Yet at the same time she had those questions many of us experience. “Mom,” she confided before the baby arrived, “Mac and I are so close that it’s a little scary to figure out how this baby will impact our marriage. Will the baby pull us apart? Can we still be as close when it’s not just the two of us?” “Yes,” I responded, “it will be different but even better. But you’ll just have to wait to see. It’s not anything you can imagine before the baby arrives! However I promise it will be wonderful!” And of course, it was.
Recently Libby and Mac left baby Greyson with her mother-in-law to go away for an overnight together–––their first time away without her. When I called to ask how their “honeymoon” was she said, “It was wonderful, Mom, but both Mac and I realized that we felt incomplete without her.”
As I reflected on her insight I realized that’s often how we feel as Empty Nesters. There’s just something different without the presence of our children. It is not necessarily bad. There are many very wonderful things about the empty nest, but there is also an underlying sense of incompleteness.
January 29
January 27
January 20
