Time is such a strange thing.  We measure it in increments we barely understand.  The significance of it's passing doesn't hit us until that which we've walked through is over.  While experiencing it, time is so real.  When we reflect on it, it seems almost a mist.  Time.

When Addison was about to enter her last year of high school, a time period that seemed so uncharted and mysterious to our family, I took her on a Mother/Daughter get-a-way.  Because she is the first child and the object of all manner of experimentation, I didn't know what I was doing.  Time as our tester of that which is good, showed me that this idea was a good thing and worthy of being repeated with each of my girls in similar life stages and has thus become an Elledge Girl family tradition.

This was Parker's turn ... a making of a Mother/Daughter memory.  We took off for Hungary (only 45 minutes away) and retreated for a Spa weekend.  Toes, fingers, backs, heads, faces and arms were massaged, peeled, oiled and scrubbed.  We clothed ourselves in white robes and enjoyed AC that we set real low.  We feel asleep to the voice of the narrator of A & E's Biography and woke up to my child telling false stories of my snoring.

Resting with someone is important.  Resting with someone who is in a life transition is priceless.  Together we explored possible options and outcomes of the year to come.  We unpacked real feelings.   We related to one another without the trappings of normal life.  We took the time to embrace what we normally would put off.  We participated in intentional rest together.

What Time and Motherhood has taught me is to enjoy my daughters at the life stage they are currently experiencing.

This summer I got to spend the night with my grown-up, adult Addison in her space.  I followed her around while she worked, did errands and life.  I was her spectator.  Then we got to fall asleep  in the same bed and listen to each other brush their teeth the next morning and share heart issues about something that would rise to the surface.  We did it because we knew time was limited and needed to be taken advantage of while it was being offered as sacred.

Mothers, have the courage to rest with your daughters.
Mothers, have the courage to be still with your daughters.
Mothers, don't rush moments but take advantage of them.
Mothers, don't try to fix daughters but let them explore options.
Mothers, love your daughters well.

Making time for more of my daughters,
Christina

Memories are funny creatures.  Taking a trip down memory lane can illicit such strong emotions; the trip can leave you feeling breathless, scared, joyful, anxious, teary-eyed or any number of emotions that were left unsealed from having lived through something that now is called your "past".

For example, Fall ushers in memories of little girls in silver mini-vans looking for the next "Bride of Beauty" (see subject list under archives for full story), stopping at the next 7-11 for a pumpkin spice cappuccino, and munching on candy corn and peanuts at Memaw's house.  Sweet, precious, fond memories of Falls that have settled in the dust of my past.

This past weekend, our oldest daughter, took a trip (literally) to her Grandparents about 3 hours away from the place she now calls home.  She called (Oh thank God for the invention of WhatsApp!) to tell me that she just passed the railroad tracks signifying the entrance into town and did her own countdown.

Let me explain the "countdown".  When the little women that I call offspring were tiny girls and we would travel to Altus, Oklahoma to see Memaw (My Chris' Mom), we played a little game.  In anticipation of entering town, we would pass a certain strip of railroad tracks.  These tracks were the unofficial marker that meant Memaw's house was right around the corner.  Upon crossing the tracks, we would estimate when to begin the countdown to 10.  10 ... 9 .... 8 ... 7 ... 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... tires rattled over metal tracks ... little girls cheered ... "We're in Altus!".  End of game.

So, my girl called to tell me she had passed the tracks and did her own countdown.  What's the point?  Memories have power.  Like little B-12 shots in the brain, memories infuse the keeper with life.  If the memory was good, simple, pleasant, warm, fuzzy, cozy, or sweet ... then - no matter how long after the memory was made - when it's revisited - it stirs up good, simple, pleasant, warm, fuzzy, cozy or sweet feelings.  The "Countdown" was sweet.  The memory even sweeter.

Yet, lets say the memory wasn't so "Norman Rockwell".  What if it was hurtful, painful, scary, unpredictable, rocked your world, out of the blue, induced stress, caused fear, and in general made you want to throw up?  Well, that's a different story, isn't it?  Unfortunately, we've all had those kinds of memories tucked within our memory banks.  What do you do with those?

Can I just speak frankly?  You have a choice.  You let the pain work out good in you or you let the pain make you bitter.  The Bible talks about roots of bitterness.  I believe unresolved pain feeds roots of bitterness.  Out of these roots bad things grow.

We can't avoid pain.  Whether its a tiny toddler hand touching a hot stove, a young heart being broken for the first time, a cancer diagnosis, a financial crash ... whatever ... pain is a part of life.  Yet, as I've spent some time walking with Jesus through a lot of pain, I can personally tell you that no pain has been big enough to overcome me.  Has it felt like it was?  You betcha.  Has pain lingered longer than I wanted it to?  Yep.  Yet because God is a good Father, and promises that all things - even the painful things - work together FOR us - pain can be a part of a chapter that is closed.  The memory can raise it's head, but the pain can be laid to rest.

How do I know?  I've seen it in my own life.  Things too unspeakable to make their way onto my lips and be spoken into the air have been healed and walked through.  They are chapters in my "Book of Life" that no longer have negative power.  They have been used for my good.  They have been stripped bare and diagnosed as no longer useful for my good health.  They are reminders of what God has done, how He keeps His promises, and how deeply He cares for me.

Memories have power.
Make memories - in all seasons of your life - work for your good!
Christina

A catholic church in our old neighborhood

This past week I took a trip down memory lane. When we first arrived in Vienna, we lived in a charming flat in an equally charming district.  Little did we know how that charming flat would be a safe haven from the world around us.  Complete with a proper private garden,  two private terraces,  we also boasted of a shared Hoff (a large gathering space), and lots of quiet.  What felt so "foreign" to us (urban living) was actually a very gracious introduction of what was to come.  Where we live now is smack in the middle of town, lots of traffic, no outside space, and constant noise.  But then ... O sweet bliss of that charming flat.

What we also experienced in that charming flat was a lot of stress.  Stress of learning a language, adapting to a new culture, acclimating to a new school system, and discovering the inner workings of an organizations dynamics.  As with most of life experiences, in the middle of sweetness was a smattering of sour.

This week, as I rode the Strassenbahn (Streetcar) through what once was "home", I could not stop smiling.  There were new buildings erected and old buildings being demolished or being restored.  There was a familiarity about the place I once called home but no sense of the pain that lingered in the air from the past.  Those buildings were such a physical representation of what has taken place in our family's lives since those days:  new things being built, old things being demolished or being restored.

If we belong to Christ, all things are made new.  It's a basic tenement of Christian belief.  There's a certain economy in Christ that makes the old new and the new spring up from ashes.  It doesn't relegate us to wallowing in junk.  We can, if we choose.  And sadly a lot of people who have placed their faith in Christ choose not to believe that He is a master builder and restorer of all things! ALL things - relationships, career, dreams, finances, health.

It was a joy this week to traverse old territory.  It was a gift to be reminded of a living God doing real things.

Memory lane is nice place to visit,
Christina

As I was putting the ornaments on our Christmas tree, I took a little trip. As I hung an ornament, depending on what period of time it represented, I was transported to the past as if I had booked a round trip ticket. So I don’t sound like a character out of Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol, let me just give you a few examples:

We have this pathetic wooden teddy bear with scribbling on the backside of it. To the uninformed eye it’s a nasty little fragment of Christmas past. To Chris and me, it brings a tear to our eyes … ok to my eyes. When we were in Tucson, Arizona and Addison was 3 years old, we were on a very … VERY … tight budget. We decided that year to only give gifts to each other that we found at Goodwill. (I know this sounds pathetic but give it a few more sentences – it does get better!). Addison and I found this cute little teddy bear ornament for Chris and she “wrote” how much she loves her Daddy on the backside. Now, 12 years later, it doesn’t matter that it came from Goodwill … to us it’s priceless.

There are countless wreaths, a giant rocking horse and an angel with a head way too small for her huge body all made from paper. Some are laminated and some are not. Each one bears either the artistic expression or photo of a toothless grin from one of our daughter’s. Again, all priceless in my book.

Then, there is the ceremonial “Our first Christmas” ornament with the date 1991 paying tribute to Chris and me beginning our family. Along with that one are several others we acquired from a rag-tag group of youth that we had the privilege of knowing before marrying. Each one brings to mind the face of the person who gave it … forever keeping them a teenager although they are all grown adults with families of their own.
I just love the sappy and gushy part of this season. Funny how any ornament I acquire this year will hold a round-trip ticket down memory lane for years to come … I just don’t know it yet!

So … tomorrow is Christmas Experience #2. I won’t spill the beans because I have smart cookies for daughters and they will sneak a beak at the blog and my surprise will go down the drain along with my giddiness of keeping all these experiences surprises. You’ll just have to wait … but please don’t think it will top London. Let’s just make one thing clear … London was over the top, once in a life time, bigger than life and any other “big” quotes you can think of … BUT, despite the WOW factor, tomorrow will be a sweet memory none the less. You’ll just have to wait and see …