#12 - or, is this the real life?

Yikes!

30. Thirty. 3-0. Three-oh.

Three. Zero.

When I was younger, thirty seemed like the epitome of being a sho’ nuff grown up. People in their 30’s had families, commitments, homes, careers. They were at a place where they should ‘have it together.’ And now I’m merely hours away from that place. But believe me when I say: I most certainly do NOT have it together. I don’t even have some of it together. Imagine a laundry room with dirty clothes on the floor, clean clothes spilling out of a basket, some shoes scattered around, some stuff hanging up to dry – the dryer buzzer just went off and the washing machine is still running and there’s absolutely no sign of being caught up on laundry any time soon – that, my friends, is my life.

When did this happen? I feel like my 20’s were just a blur. And I can’t believe they’re almost over. I’m closing in on the final hours of an entire decade, y’all. Somebody who’s been here tell me you were as depressed about this as I have been. It’s been really difficult for me. Honestly.

One of the biggest things I’ve struggled with this year has been how extraordinarily and undeservedly blessed I am. I guess struggled probably doesn’t make much sense – but let me try to explain. I came into this world and joined two sisters and a brother in my family. My oldest sister, Dina, had some health issues very early in her life and, as a result, had severe brain damage. Since E and I haven’t had any children yet, I can’t imagine how devastated mom and dad were when the doctors diagnosed it. A baby who wasn’t supposed to make it to her teenage years lived a long life – she passed away at the age of 29, more than double what the doctors told my parents.

pay no attention to my crazy hair.
tra la la.
carry on.

Which is what brings me to my struggle during my own 29^th year…the knowledge that I was blessed with this incredible life – a kind of life that my sister was denied. It’s a really difficult thing to articulate, but I suppose I just want to honor everything that she didn’t get to accomplish. I have felt like I needed to make extra sure that I do everything I can to live my life to the fullest – to have no regrets – to experience things, to explore things, to DO things and not waste the time I’ve been given. Life is truly precious – in ways we don’t even stop and consider most days. I’m ashamed to admit that I’m just as guilty of that as the next person.

I’ve often heard the eyes are the windows to the soul - and if you don't believe that, take another look at the pictures above. If this is true, Dina had the purest soul I’ve ever had the privilege to know. My childhood pastor probably said it best when he told us that we would probably never be able to understand the conversations she’d had with God himself. For someone who never spoke more than a handful of words – she has probably singlehandedly had the most profound impact on my life. Even though she looked at me like I’d stolen her momma, and even though I never got to have real conversation with her – she taught me things that most people will never understand. And I am forever grateful for having the honor to call her my sister.

Earlier this year, tragedy struck our family once again. My sister-in-law, Lindsey, lost her own sister, Allison. I guess you’d have to know the dynamic of our family to appreciate how difficult this was for us. Suffice it to say, when you marry into our family – it’s a package deal. We are taking in everybody. So get used to it. Anyway, in the aftermath of this loss, in which I think we all felt like we’d lost a part of us, I started thinking about things that I’d learned from Allison over the years. Lindsey has been a part of our family for so long now, I can’t remember life before her. She is my sister. She is a very best friend – and I am often so moved by her generosity, her willingness to love without condition, and her natural God-given ability to be a friend and confidant. Plus, she shares my love for rice krispie treats and she’s helped me solve many of my life’s problems over a pan of them.

And by extension, Allison had been a part of our family as well. She’d worked in my mom’s beauty shop. She came to my parents’ house for just about every fish fry – and I’m not sure that I’ll ever not think about her when we are frying fish. I’ve watched her kids grow up. Her daughter even calls me “Aunt Ashley” like the rest of the kids (and I am SO honored by that).

Allison was truly one of a kind. A shoot-you-straight kind of woman (my kinda gal). She did a lot of good during her time here. We shared a lot of laughs over the years – she gave me love-life advice on more than one occasion. She reminded me how great my family is more times than I can count. Gosh, how blessed am I to have gotten to share some time with her.

So, in honor of Dina – and what she didn’t get to accomplish, I wanted to share some things that I learned from Allison about how to do life. Some things I hope to do to honor both of their memories.

#1 - laugh. Laugh often and without reservation. Allison had one of the most amazing laughs I’ve ever heard. It was heartfelt – and honest. And she was one of those people who inspired you to try to be witty, just so you could crack her up.

#2 - be honest. Allison was a shoot you straight kind of woman. I really liked that about her. She was definitely one of those people who spoke the truth to you – even when it was hard to hear. And let’s face it – we ALL need a friend like that in our lives.

#3 - cherish family. Maybe one of the best things about Allison was the obvious love and affection she held for her kids. She was an amazing mother who loved her kids as much as anyone I’ve ever known. And I know she will continue to watch over her family. And I’m sure she loves them just as fiercely in heaven as she did here on earth.

#4 - put on some makeup and fix your hair. Even when you don’t feel like it. You know, I was thinking the other night about seeing Allison through the years, and I can’t remember too many times that I saw her without being ‘dressed.’ A true southern belle thing, I’m sure – but a valid one nonetheless. Even when I don’t feel like getting dressed and putting makeup on, I always feel better once I do. Trust me, I love pajamas just as much as the next gal, but there’s something about those days when your eye makeup looks amazing and your hair magically does exactly what you wanted – it’s hard to have a bad day when that happens. And sometimes, you just gotta fake it till you make it. I’m sure there were times she didn’t feel like it, but anyone who knew and loved Allison knew that if you were going to be seeing her – she would have on her makeup with her hair fixed.

I’m a blessed woman. I have amazing family and friends. I have been given much more than I deserve. And I’m going to try to remember that every day from here on out.

#11 – or, if you lay down with the pigs…

I admit it – I’m human. Sometimes, I get mad about stuff I should rejoice about. Sometimes I get wrapped up IN ‘life’ and forget to sit down and be thankful FOR my life. Sometimes I feel like I’ve squandered days…months – even entire years (can anyone else believe that it’s November already?!).

We squander a lot don’t we? Take stuff for granted on a daily basis. It’s ok to admit it – we all do it. A conversation I had with my friend, Kricket, not too long ago planted the seed for this particular entry. I’ve thought a lot about how I wanted to approach it. I couldn’t decide what made the best sense for me to get my thoughts in order and translate everything I’m thinking into some cognitively sound statements. And, I think the best way I’m going to do that is to approach this in two posts…more on the 2^nd one later…you’ll understand by mid-November.

It all started with a conversation about someone we know who has had the tendency to squander things in their life. I certainly won’t get into details of a very private conversation – but, by the end of the conversation, Kricket and I found ourselves discussing the parable of the prodigal son. I think a lot of us think of the father with his arms open wide welcoming his son as he walked up from afar – even after he’d squandered all of his inheritance.

…But what I think we fail to consider is the fact that his lost son had indeed wasted his ENTIRE inheritance – and as a result, he’d been working for a farmer – feeding pigs. I mean, let’s just stop right there and discuss that – have you been on a farm or to a petting zoo before? Pigs stink. Really. Bad. Can you imagine the smell that must have been wafting off of him? Could his father smell him before the son actually got close enough for his dad to throw his arms around him? My guess is yes. And yet – the father opened his arms wide and rejoiced. He sent for his best robes and the fatted calf – and for a celebration of his son’s return. Much to the chagrin of his other son.

And speaking of the son who’d stayed and worked… What did he feel? Jealousy? Anger? Disbelief? Of course. That’s only human, right? I can’t say that I’m so enlightened and spiritually advanced that I wouldn’t react the exact same way. To be the one who’d worked the land and done the right thing and feel un-rewarded for that? Absolutely I’d react that way.

I marvel at the fact that I am a sister of Jesus Christ – we are joint heirs of the Kingdom. And that even though I have played the part of the prodigal daughter more times than I want to count, much less admit, in my life – Jesus is never jealous of me – His sister. Wow! I am astounded that even though His Father’s inheritance is so much greater than anything you or I could ever dream up – he is never mad because I lose my way and come back smelling like the pigs.

Man, isn’t God good? I’m so thankful for a God who doesn’t mind that sometimes I smell like the pigs. And He welcomes me home with open arms – puts His finest robes on my shoulders and prepares a feast for me – and in my mind, it’s filled with lots of pasta. And bread. And chocolate. (But I’m confident none of it has any calories).

What is on the table by the fatted calf in honor and celebration of your return? It's not too late, by the way. He's ready - arms wide and waiting for you. And he can smell you - but I promise He'll still hug you tight and rejoice your homecoming.