You Have Permission to Breathe

This post is a part of the Five Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a one-word topic without any heavy editing. Check it out.

Last weekend I went on a short getaway with a group of friends. I didn’t leave behind any meals, I didn’t leave any instructions for the care of any of the pets or the house or chores or anything. I packed my car, picked up one of the ladies, and off we went with the top down in my convertible Mustang.

And it was glorious.

The 7 of us, more of us friends for more than 20 years, had never done a girls weekend before. Though we “talk” through Messenger several times a day, and most of us get together weekly to pray with others for our kids, we had never had a time that was just about us.

We rented an Airbnb, ate good food planned and prepared by the one who most enjoys doing that, did a fun craft together, laughed, talked, kayaked on the lake, got very little sleep, and watched the rain.

What we didn’t do was feel guilty about being away. I got a few texts from my husband about some issues with our pool; I texted my daughter once asking what she ended up making for dinner, and she reprimanded me by telling me to go be with my friends. Which I was. I just wanted to connect for a moment I guess.

It was a pleasure. And it was a privilege I know not everyone can afford. And it was a necessity. We actually physically needed to be together. To reconnect in person. So little of that had been done in the pandemic year.

Jesus gives you permission to breathe. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29, ESV).

Brothers

Today, I took my two teenagers in to their pediatrician for their annual well-check. Seeing as how Justin now is taller than his doctor, it was an interesting experience. We’ve had the same doctor since Justin was born, and we love him. But I know eventually we will have to move on.

I remember the interview we did with him when I was pregnant. I remember Justin’s induced birth and bout with pneumathorax immediately after, and his brief stay in the NICU where we dubbed him “Bubba” because he was so much larger than any of the other babies in there. I remember our rush to the emergency room when Justin was 6 months old and had his first scare with his milk allergy. And the stitches in his head when he fell on the coffee table. And the stitches near his eye when he was pretending to be blind and walked into the edge of a bookcase. And his surgery where the meds they gave him beforehand made him act drunk. And the rush to the hospital when he had his first asthma attack. Dr. Didea talked us through it all, even if he couldn’t be there to do the fixing himself.

And I remember Nathan’s uneventful birth. Three hours and done. No scary NICU or anything. It was smooth sailing. And I remember how Justin loved him when we brought him home. When we finally moved Nathan into Justin’s room once Nathan was sleeping through the night, every little noise he made had Justin yelling for us: “Nathan’s crying! Nathan’s crying!” Then there was the staples for Nathan after Justin threw a broken piece of asphalt in the air and it landed on Nathan’s head. Back to see Dr. Didea.

The boys have always shared a room, but not always happily. I have stuck to my guns on this issue because I believed it would make them better friends, better people, better roommates, better spouses. Do they still argue? Absolutely. Do they drive each other crazy? You bet. But who is the first one they look for when they want to show someone something cool they’ve discovered? Their brother.

It is my fervent desire that they be the best of friends as they grow up. They are two very different personalities: Justin is into guns; Nathan loves swords and knives. Justin is a go-getter, seemingly not afraid of anything; Nathan hangs back a bit to see how things play out. Justin is driven; Nathan is laid back. Nothing wrong with either of those personalities and they both have much they can offer each other. As they mature, I see them respecting each other more. That is a wonderful thing.

They are brothers; I pray they become best friends.

 

 

 

Thankful today for:

123. a good report

124. teaching poetry writing to 2nd graders

125. bananas