**Disclaimer : David and I both love Lucas dearly. ** The other day someone said to me: "Haha, Sunday's must be pretty hectic in your household with two pastors. Who takes care of Lucas?" Actually, I should backtrack just a little. On Palm Sunday (4/14) at 3:00 p.m. after most people who attend church had heard of at least Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem (and many others the entire Passion - betrayal, trial, crucifixion, and burial - of Jesus), a secondary appearance of Satan occurred. For it was at that time that Satan entered into one Lucas of the Hively household. (See below for actual footage) From that time on it was in Lucas' heart to make everything as hard as humanly possible for Robyn and David. (Lucas 5:4) For whatever reason, Lucas seemed to lose his ever-lovin' mind - the smallest thing would set him off. There was screaming, crying, hitting, self-imposed time outs, mocking, and general chaos-creation. This continued Monday... Tuesday... Wednesday... It got to the point on Thursday morning where I had to cancel the sitter because I just could not possibly subject her to the horror that was Lucas... I eventually got him off to school in the afternoon and had my cry and went into the office. Then, Friday Ms. Ava appeared and all was right in Lucas world again... until Saturday lunch, where once more the evil reared it's ugly head and there was more yelling, screaming and general discord. Currently, he is calm, sitting in David's chair with a snack... All of which means that Sophie will probably have her hands full tomorrow morning because it is Easter, and that means our schedule is COMPLETELY different, and our boy does not appreciate change. Anyway... back to the statement and question given to me this week. "Haha, Sunday's must be pretty hectic in your house with two pastors. Who watches Lucas?" It took a team of highly trained physicists to answer this question. Well... maybe not. But it feels like it some days. So, yea, our little man is not quite ready to monitor himself during services. He and I experimented with this one Sunday during the praise service at my church. My darling son decided that during my sermon would be an excellent time to slide out of the pew, stand in front of me, and shake his booty at the congregation. I get ahold of him and hold him to me until I think he has settled down and I release him so that he can go back to the pew... little did I realize he would, instead, make a beeline for the piano just behind me and to my right. I did my best to grab him before he made it passed me, but he's a slippery little kid and I missed. So, continuing to preach as best I could, I slowly make my way over, grab my child who is playing piano and pick all 50+ lbs of him up and he proceeds to grump into my over-the-ear microphone. Eventually he was corralled back into the pew and a fellow mom in the congregation took pity on me and came and distracted him with coloring. Yeah... so.... no, he's not allowed to hang out by himself in the pew on Sunday mornings as I have no desire for any more grey hairs. Which means that, since we don't have any blood relations close-by, we have to rely on dedicated babysitters. Over almost 4 years we have developed what I consider a pretty intricate system of available sitters for little man on Sunday mornings. Because, you see, this is not prime sitting time for many teenagers. (Shock, right? 7:30 on a Sunday morning is not when most high school students want to be at church with a five year old). d Therefore, we love our Sunday morning sitters dearly and try to compensate them as generously as we can. But there are a variety of forms that Sunday morning can take. 1) Great pastors, great parents 2) Great pastors, average parents 3) Failing pastors, great parents 4) Failing pastors, exhausted parents Scenario #1: Great pastors, great parents. (Btw: if anyone can find me that shirt, I would LOVE you!) This scenario is when Sundays go in the most ideal way possible. Which, as you can guess, is about once every couple years. This is the Sunday where, Robyn, David and Lucas all wake up at the same time, just a little earlier than other days, we have some wonderful snuggles, Lucas' board for the day gets made and he's happy about it, everyone showers/eats/gets dressed in the smoothest way possible. We pack a delicious and healthy snack and angels sing softly over us as we drive to church where the sitter meets us and Lucas floats through the first service, Sunday school, and then leaves with the sitter who we bought her own car seat just for this purpose. They go and have lunch and a delightful time until we get home. You see, in this scenario, everyone is relaxed, happy, and even joyful to go to the house of worship and celebrate God. Lucas gets to participate in worship and then partake of Christian education, our sitter leaves maybe a little tired but happy and well compensated. Robyn and David get to feel like we have been the ideal models of faith and parenting, and we rest in the afternoon content in all that has happened this day. Now, as I mentioned, this does not always happen... In fact, lately, this hasn't even seemed to happen a majority of the time even with the best of intentions on everyone's part. Which leads us to scenario #2. Scenario #2: Great pastor, average parent. In this scenario, the morning doesn't go exactly as planned. Either Lucas wakes up at some ungodly hour and sings while David and I lay awake but pretend that everything is fine and we are still resting. Or maybe Lucas, in spite of all our efforts and against the norm of every other day, decides that he is not going to wake up early and we end up having to wake him up. This usually leads to a rocky start with a grumpy, petulant Lucas who will just disagree with everything. Yet, we have to get him into the car and to church because the child needs Jesus and we need forgiveness and I will have my child in church like a great pastor, that and the day's babysitter will meet you at church (or I pick them up) and they hang around the church for all the prep time, all three services, and the close down time... And Lucas may or may not take in an entire service, and probably will get to Sunday school, but let's face it, that's a long tough day for a 5 year old and a tough situation for any sitter. But, he gets Jesus, he gets some kind of Christian ed, and we come home, and I let him watch more t.v. than I normally would, because... I need to stay sane. The babysitter goes home exhausted and maybe more than a little frustrated... This is more common than scenario #1. Which brings us to scenario #3. Scenario #3: Average pastor, great parent. In this scenario, Lucas has probably had a rough night or week, month... And mommy has schedule the sitter that he loves. We survive the morning but I win, I get him into the car, and I drop him off at the sitter's house. This sitter is pretty awesome, does a lot of arts and crafts, outside play, he gets dirty, sometimes they get to church. I leave a car seat with them and if they feel up to it, they may bring him to the praise service. So, Lucas is happy because he's got a fun day free from the house, isn't stuck in one place, gets to do cool stuff... but as a pastor, it's in the back of my mind that... hey... y'know... my son maybe didn't get to church today... he didn't get any Christian ed either... Maybe when we get home, after we eat lunch, I'll have him pick out some of his Jesus-centric stories and we get him some Jesus that way. Overall we feel pretty content, I'm a good mom because he had fun and you know, got a little Jesus. The sitter is happy, we are happy, it's a good compromise. But what feels like the most common scenario, is #4. Scenario #4: Fail pastor, exhausted parent Ok... so... full out confession... there are some weeks where it is just easier to leave my son at home and have a sitter come to the house and watch Lucas the whole morning. This might be because he has had just an awful night and it's just not worth the fight to get him there... or it might be that mommy is just flat out exhausted and this is honestly the easiest path. Another favorite sitter comes to the house, they have a great time, sitter leaves happy, mommy and daddy get to chill when we get home, everyone feels content at home, but in my head I hear that little voice saying "You bad pastor... you didn't even try to get any Jesus for your son today. He's going to grow up to be a hot mess and it's going to be your fault because you just didn't try hard enough. Being tired is not an excuse." About this time, I tell the voice to be quiet because I just don't have the energy to feel guilty. But, the babysitter goes home happy and balance is maintained. But here's the other reality. I have to book these sitters a couple weeks in advance and this means that I have to take my best guess as to how Lucas will be feeling, what the right choice is, get a good mix in their, and offer up a lot of prayers. Every once in a while we will need to do last minute changes, he's having a meltdown and I just can't get him to church or he wakes up sick, and then I have to call a sitter that morning and hope and pray. Other times something might come up for the sitter and I have to find a fill-in. Remember, now, Lucas doesn't like change, so I can't really give him too much information until I'm pretty sure what the day will hold. It's pretty stressful. Add on top of this that sometimes David needs to pick him up from somewhere and I have to 1) remember to tell him 2) remember to tell him where to get Lucas. So, yeah, you could say it's a little crazy around our house come Sunday mornings. Not to mention that during church I'm always watching and listening for a streak of a little boy or a screaming Lucas and my anxiety just ramps up pretty hardcore because there's only so much I can do to help out a sitter if things go sideways while I'm in the middle of worship. Now, tomorrow is Easter. That means that I have a sunrise service that STARTS at 6:30, which means I will be up at 4:30 and out of the house at 5:30. David has an extra service in there and he will be leaving earlier than normal. There's NO way I'm going to try and get Lucas up, ready, and out the door to be at sunrise service. So, God bless our sitter, she comes here and spends the night so that she is here when he wakes up and she gets him fed, dressed, and ready and most of the time is able to get him to church for one of the services. This is not an easy task or day because Lucas doesn't understand why things are so different, he usually doesn't get his basket or eggs until way late in the day, and Easter dinner is mainly something ordered from Bob Evans. But we are together, we proclaimed the Good News, and in all things we know Gods is good.
So, no matter what the scenario, no matter our moods, our successes or our failures, I know that God is good and I give thanks for the opportunity to be a part of this crazy, beautiful, complicated life and the chance to be mom to a pretty awesome kid. May your Easter be filled with great joy, many alleluia's, and much joy.
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Please forgive grammar, capitalization. I wrote this on my phone. Dad. your birthday is tomorrow. I haven't figured out yet how I feel. I know I miss you. I also know you'd tell me to stop moping. but, you always said I was independent and headstrong, so I am going to mope a little anyways. Tonight someone recommended I do something you enjoyed. I know a song I will likely listen to and cry as I miss you. But the thing that came to mind as something to do that you enjoyed was to have a beer. Now, you know that's a big deal for me because I don't like beer, but the more I think about it the more I like the idea. I might call your cell number tomorrow... I think it's been deactivated but if by some chance your voicemail is still there I know I'll at least get to hear your voice say your name. I miss your voice, dad. It was always so low and gravel-ly. I remember laughing to no end as we would shoot pool in the basement and you would sing "Jeremiah was a bullfrog." I miss the mischievous look you'd get in your eye when I knew you were thinking of something to say that you knew would get a rise out of me. You were good at that. It hurts because this is all the kind of stuff that I would talk to you about while listening to music and shooting pool, but you're not here to do that now. I dislike crying and I'm frustrated that I'm doing it as I write this. It's not the same without you. The world didn't rock off its axis or anything, but my world is emptier. I always told you that you'd give me plenty of fodder for my sermons... that still seems true, but I don't think I'm ready yet. So, yeah, I miss you... and maybe Thursday my faith will kick into high gear and hope will be my main feeling, but right now, this just sucks because I miss you. Love you always dad.
For the last few weeks I have been struggling with anxiety about an approaching date. April 10, 2019. The first of my dad's birthdays he will spend in heaven. I know I'm anxious about it because ever since calendars switched over to April my eyes have sought out that date whenever I glance at a calendar. I've also noticed the other little signs. My leg bouncing incessantly - most of the time without my recognizing I'm doing it unless my leg suddenly seems tired. (Odd sensation, really). It was almost like an April fools joke. April 1 and my mind continually skips ahead to April 10. I have typical questions and thoughts around the date. How will I feel? What will it be like to not make a phone call to my dad to wish him a happy birthday and instead whisper it in a prayer to lift up. If you know me at all you know that I don't do well with the unknown. I want to know, I want to plan, I want to be able to have an idea where things are headed. So, going into this day is going to be tough simply because I don't know what to expect. Honestly, this wouldn't be as bad if it fell on, say a Monday, my day off, where I could either go be with my mom or at least stay at home and feel my feels. But, it's on a Wednesday. During Lent. April 10th this year will kick off with Bible study and wrap up with worship, so there are worse ways I could spend the day. I worry, though, about my emotions on the day. I do not like to be emotional in front of others, especially when working and "in pastor mode." So, hopefully my emotions will stay under control. Although, if I've learned anything, the likelihood of everything staying "under control" is unlikely. Not impossible but maybe not realistic. So, anyway, the other thing that happened on an April 10 is that it is my baptismal birthday. When my dad and mom talked about having me baptized, dad wanted it to be on his birthday. So those days are intrinsically linked. And it is kind of beautiful to me. It brings me some measure of comfort. I was just shy of 4 months old when I was baptized. I was a stinkin' cute baby if you ask me. That right there is my family. I, of course, and the cute baby in the white dress. It is from my baptism. Obviously I don't remember the day, but I love that I have a picture of it. That day is special. Even more so now. That day was my dad's birthday and my re-birth day. A re-birth into the promise of life eternal with Christ. A washing away of my old self and the day I was marked with the cross of Christ. I was baptized into the life, death and resurrection of Christ. On that day we were reminded of how the Word met the water, I was made a part of the family of Christ. Now, on April 10, 2019, I will be remembering my dad on the first birthday without him here. I will be reminded of the power of the grave and death in our lives. It will be a stark reminder to me of the brevity of this life and the passing of each breath. April 10 this year will be one that likely will have stuttered breaths, long deep breaths, and probably tears. And if the tears come, I will be thankful for them, because it will remind me of the other important message of April 10. They will remind me of the promises that are made to us by a loving God. The salty tears will force me to remember God's promise that the grave will not have the last say in life. I will be able to take solace in the knowledge that no grave is stronger than the promises of God. Now, that song is awesome. (The video... not so much... except for the hype-woman who I aspire to be one day). It is the reminder I need for the day that is to come. It is the reminder that even Christ faced death and the grave. Even he lay cold in the grave before he overcame. This was done out of love for us. It was done to open the way and free us so that we could live out his final command, to love one another. Although my dad has passed and I will miss him dearly on his birthday, I have the marvelous gift of that day being my baptismal birthday as well. It's a gift that let's me hear the truth that Jesus has overcome the grave and my dad is at rest. The above image is one I found as I was looking for pictures for this blog post and I fell in love with it. It's a way of seeing our last heartbeat move us through the way that was opened by Christ so that we might live again. That last heartbeat, as hard as it is, also speaks of the time to come when there will be no more crying, no more pain, no more sorrow. That last heartbeat is not the end; it is simply a pause before the next part of our life. The first image is nice as well. It incorporates the semi-colon in there, which I adore. Semi-colon tattoos became popular a few years back as a way to speak about suicide prevention. A semi-colon is used when an author could have chosen to end a sentence but didn't. In this case, the author is you and the sentence is your life. Don't place a period in your life when a semi-colon is all that is needed. Some days we just need a pause. The bad days, the hard days, they don't need to be a period in our sentence, but maybe they make us need to take a breath and a break. Therefore, a semi-colon. A breath and a pause in the rhythm of our lives. So, now with that little tangent completed... I'm still not looking forward to April 10. I would rather still have my dad with me than be finding the grace in a day where I'm remembering him. But, if I had to go through the day, I'm glad that I can go through it steeped in prayer, with dear people, and the unseen reminder of the cross that was marked on my forehead at my baptism. A reminder that tells me this is simply a breath, a pause, on the way to something greater. If you find yourself in a similar situation, or a difficult time, or a time that seems hopeless... know that I am there with you... and with me, remember to breathe... Just breathe. (And because this song has been stuck in my head since about halfway through writing this post.... enjoy "Breathe" by Johnny Diaz). |
AuthorI've been Robyn for my whole life. I've been a wife for 10 years and a mom for 5 years. I've been a pastor for about 10 years. I'm still stumbling, but I'm still standing. Archives
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