Happy New Year! Welcome to the 20's! I'm actually pretty psyched for a return of some of the better parts of the roarin' 20s. (I love the Great Gatsby). My social media has been blowing up yesterday and today with posts about "new year, new me" and recaps of how great or mostly great the last year has been for them. I did a list of resolutions that I'd like to try to keep... 1) Find something that I can intentionally spend time doing with Lucas 2) Start cardio drumming again at least 3 times a week (first one tomorrow evening at 7) 3) Set and keep intentional prayer times each day at least twice a day 4) Study Spanish at least once a week [have to start somewhere] (first one-on-one lesson next Thursday) 5) Make intentional time to be with David. 6) Learn more about autism, become more of an advocate 7) Spend more time with my mom 8) Be more of an advocate for us in terms of sharing our adoption profile 9) Be reckleslessly and joyfully kind even in the face of adversity 10) regularly attend Lions Club meetings I know my resolutions are earth shattering or innovative. But, I like them, they are goals that matter to me. Where I really find myself struggling is the whole idea of "the year in review." Facebook keeps trying to give me a photo year in review, but since it uses profile pictures and I use old pictures as profile pics, it's a bit ridiculous. You see, 2019 was a tough year for me. It was the first full year without my dad. I still found myself going to call him on the holidays, or send him a message, or ask my mom about how he's doing. It's been interesting as I know the way grief works and that it's not the same for everyone and all that, but being in the midst of the grief has me critiquing the way in which I am grieving. So, that's a thing. Baby girl did not find her way to us this year which has been incredibly difficult. I really thought this was going to be the year that our little family became complete. Missing someone who isn't here yet, I've found, is almost as difficult as missing someone who'd not here anymore. Waiting for baby girl has been a test. It's a hard thing to grieve out loud because people want to be loving and helpful. "It'll be in God's time." "She's on her way." "It's just not the right time." are common phrases I've heard. And I know that they are all true. I get that this is going to be in God's time and that God's time is not my time, but I want to be angry about that... I want to be sad about that. Scripture is filled with people who were not patient waiters and God still worked in their lives. The Israelites grumbled the whole 40 years in the wilderness. Sarai mourned and gave up on the ability to have children to the point she laughed when it was prophesied. If God can handle their doubts and sorrow, surely God can handle my grief. I regularly come up with reasons why she isn't here, my personal favorite being that with Lucas's diagnosis of Autism and his difficulties with transitioning into Kindergarten, it would have been a difficult time to bring a new little one into the picture. Waiting for God to bring our new co-pastor to St. Luke's was another way I explained it to myself. It will make the way straighter if I had a co-pastor to step in during maternity leave. Yet, no matter how many really great statements I offer myself or am offered, it doesn't change the fact that my heart grieves and longs for the little one who isn't here yet. It's like being so close to finishing a puzzle but there is one piece that is missing and no matter what I do, I can't finish it, I have to wait for someone else to bring the piece to me. If you want to help us out and spread the word about our desire to adopt, share this link that goes to our adoption site. davidandrobyn-adopt.com If you're anything like me, you might be thinking "Ok Robyn, just shake yourself out of it." But, David has been working with me to be a little more gentle with myself. So, I looked back at my year again and what I saw was that there were more things - both big and little - that contributed to this feeling of crawling across the calendar into a new year. As I mentioned above, our (almost) 6 year old Lucas was diagnosed with autism. That has been a hard and exhausting journey. I am not unfamiliar with autism. I had a pretty good sense of it. But it was like something out of an alternate reality when I was living with that new understanding of my son day in and day out. In case you're interested, there are many ways to berate, belittle, and blame yourself when your child gets this diagnosis. All of which are ridiculous. Also, it's even to feel like the world is ending. And, well, it kind of is. The world that I knew as a mom, as a working mom, has changed drastically in the last year. I've always been a schedule oriented person but with Lucas it has had to go to a whole new level. There are so... so.... so many doctors appointments. There was his struggle to adapt to Kindergarten - multiple times having to go and pick him up because it was just not working. I got to know the ISD staff really well. And I am super grateful for them. They have been incredible people and if you have a child with special needs. do not hesitate to get to know your ISD staff because they understand navigating the twists and turns and can be some of your biggest supports and champions. On top of the doctors and the calls to pick him up there were the multiple IEP meetings to figure out how to help him. My calendar ended up looking like a blob of color on my screen because David is in blue, I'm in pink, office is in purple, Lucas is in teal, babysitters are in green, and cursory stuff that I need to keep in mind are in yellow... I just wanted to cry at times. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I yelled and railed against the unfairness. I wrote and erased more emails than I have in the last 10 years. You may have noticed that part of my resolutions for the new year involve autism. I still have a lot to learn and I want to become and advocate, not just for us and for Lucas, but eventually for other parents/guardians who are trying to navigate the unpredictable waters of autism. Then, there were the little things that on their own aren't all that much, but cumulatively can be crushing. The phone calls to friends I meant to make and didn't. The visits I wanted to undertake and didn't. Little odd jobs around the house that I told myself could wait til the next time I had time. Missed bedtimes, words spoken in anger, disconnection between myself and loved ones... This world is not helping either. There are so many things... but I won't go there. This is not the post for that. Suffice it to say, there was a person I wanted to be at 12:01 am on January 1, 2019 and at 11:59 pm on December 31, 2019 I fully realized how much I'm not that person. (Ok, you got me, it was technically more like 10:18 pm when I told myself I was still a rock star and went to bed). Which is why the year in review thing is a struggle for me. Because I could easily recount the joys of the year. The weddings I presided over. The people I was able to interact with and help. The youth I was able to spend time with. Time with my son and my husband that I wouldn't trade for anything. All of that is there. But... my remembrances of those times always seem tinted by my realization of not being who I wanted to be at that time. Wanting to be healthier (but too lazy); wanting to have more time with loved ones (but deciding I'm too busy), wanting to be kinder, smarter, wiser, happier... That little voice in my head that likes to point out all the places I didn't quite make it. And it just feels like I start every new year with this little pile of stuff that whirls in with all the unmet expectations, the unrealized hopes, the scars and sorrows that are still there... and I always seem to feel like I'm entering each year a little more tired, a little slower, a little more weighed down by what I am carrying... So, instead of roaring into the 20's, I feel like I'm dragging myself in with a squeak. With all of this clattering around my head last night and this morning, I made a decision. "Happy New Year" is not going to be a simple pleasantry for me. "Welcome to 2020" won't be a simple greeting. I am going to come into this year with "Cheers to a new year" on my lips like a battle cry. I'm going to bring with me the things that need to come, I'm going to leave behind the things that will always be what they have been, and I'm going to be recklessly kind.
I am going to endeavor to be extravagantly kind to people I disagree with, with people I don't know, with people I know too well, and I'm going to be recklessly kind with myself. I am going to push myself to strive for my goals but I'm also going to forgive myself when I mess up. I am going to be unapologetic in my grief, both for my dad and for the baby girl I have yet to meet. The desire to embrace and live into the grief instead of trying to avoid it or deny it will be stronger this year. I want to be able to demonstrate healthy grief in a world that still struggles to understand or welcome it. 2020 isn't magically going to be the most amazing year. I understand that. There are going to be struggles and sorrows and pains and frustrations. But, I want it to be a year that when I reach December 31 I look back and realize that I did my best, that I approached difficult situations with kindness and peace, and that I forgave more than I held grudges. If I can look back on this year and say it's defining word is "grace" I will be happy. So, to all my friends out there who are entering this new year carrying a lot of the pains and sorrows and stresses of 2019, be gentle with yourself. And maybe join me in my battle cry: "Cheers to a new year!"
1 Comment
Lori
1/1/2020 11:59:00 am
Bless you sweetheart!! You are so you when you write!
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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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