Family – Page 15 – The Dolly Mama

Ten (Short and Sweet) Padre Snapshots

Posted on June 17, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“My father didn’t tell me how to live. He lived and let me watch him do it.” (Clarence Buddington Kelland)

I am privileged today to be spending time with three dads: two “oldish” ones (Allen and my brother Stephen) and one first-timer (my son-in-law Cody). As I scrolled through Facebook and Instagram this morning, images and pictures of fathers near and far, alive or passed on, silly and serious, coupled with lots of writing or just a plain image, my heart became full.

Dads get a pretty bad wrap in our culture. Their absence or abuse seems to be the downfall of our families and ultimately our society. Dads are to blame for the ills that befall our hearts. In the media, they are painted with a large brushstroke of incompetence, ill-will, and ignorance. For many today, this image is more true than you’d like it to be. It fits with your experience. This day is actually one of the hardest of the year. I am sorry.

But as social media reminded me this morning, it’s not a complete picture of all dads. Some dads, like the three I am with today, are good men: kind-hearted and loyal, fun-loving and humble, gentle and strong, present and loving. Enjoy these snapshots of some of the best dads I know.

1. My husband Allen getting into the baby pool with our four-month old.

2. My brother Stephen taking long fishing trips with his son to the remote regions of Canada and New York State.

3. My father telling the story of the “Wide-Mouth Frog” to a bright-eyed grandchild the same way he did with me so many years ago.

4. Allen patiently hooking up many a worm on fishing poles for our not-able-to-do-it-yet boys. (key word: patiently) And as you can see, braving the dangers of taking our young wiggly boys on a much-longed for boat ride.

5. My son-in-law Cody playing peek-a-boo with his six-month-old and producing cackles of laughter.

6. My friend Glenn walking his daughter down the aisle and then performing her wedding ceremony with tears in his eyes and love in his heart.

7. My brother Tim holding his kids close at the graveside of their mom.

8. My father-in-law giving the toast at our wedding after agreeing to be Allen’s best man.

9. My brother David attending concert after concert with his daughter.

10. Allen and Rachel holding hands while walking into their favorite coffee shop in the wee morning hours before high school.

These are the pictures (and so many more about so many of you or the men that you love) that are etched into my memory from men who have decided to be present, to be intentional, to bring healing, to love their children well. Thank you. Thank you. I salute you! Keep up the good work! You are the reason that I can remotely understand the love of my Heavenly Father. No one else does it better! Happy Father’s Day!

WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR SNAPSHOTS OF THE GREAT DADS YOU KNOW! Feel free to comment and share (especially out on social media)!

Childhood, Faith, Family, motherhood

“I Want Five Tattoos!” (My 13 Year Old)

Posted on June 10, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“Being the best is great. You’re the number one. Being unique is greater. You are the ONLY one.” (Wilson Kanadi)

I couldn’t tell you when it happened but when Rachel, our youngest (read more about her HERE), was about 13 or 14 years old, she told me she wanted to get a tattoo, actually FIVE tattoos. After my initial internal “yikes” response and my “not-so-hidden” external gasp, I drummed up the courage to ask her what these FIVE tattoos were and why she was in desperate need to mark up her sacred body (as I so lovingly reminded her which was responded to by some eye-rolling).

Mustering my highly uncomfortable “listen-whether-you-like-it-or-not” skills and “don’t-make-any-faces” expertise (Okay. You got me. It’s true. I have absolutely zero expertise in this area), I listened as she surprised me. All on her own, she had discovered FIVE things that she loved in this life, FIVE parts of our common humanity that made her heart come alive and that she would hold tightly onto no matter how old she became. She had a symbol for each one that she wanted tattooed on the inside of each of her FIVE fingers. I listened with bigger ears and a broader heart (good parent award) and breathed a sigh of relief that the tattoos would be so small that no one would probably ever notice them (shallow, worried-about-what-others-might-think parent booby prize). She had discovered how she was specifically designed and made it her mission to invest in what made her heart flutter as she traveled her unique life’s journey.

Rachel’s FIVE:

HEART – This symbolizes “love.” Her desire to invest in people and relationships: from family to friends, from those on the fringes to those on the inside, from the easy-to-like to the hard-to-tolerate. (Mom note: Rachel is a ball of unconditional love. Those who meet her feel instantly like they are the only person in the room. Her smile is contagious and her grace is infectious.)

PUZZLE PIECE – Since Rachel was a tot, she has loved puzzles. From 3rd grade on, we have had a puzzle table set up in our family room that is constantly filled with pieces waiting to be gathered into a picture. She has a special puzzle table at college and is part of the “puzzle-of-the-month” club. This is no small matter in this girl’s life and it gives her a place to unwind, yet allows her brain a much-loved boost. Some people run for endorphins. Rachel does puzzles. (Mom note: she gets this from my genes. She and I are going to have a puzzle contest this summer to see who can get the same puzzle done quicker. Please pray for me. I think I might have met my match and most likely, my superior.)

CROSS – Jesus. This is plainly and simply about her fierce attachment to Her Savior, Confidant, Best-Friend, Provider and Lover of her Soul. Her pure heart for the spiritual and her complete understanding of the intentional, passionate love of God and His unconditional acceptance of her has given her an unspoken confidence. (Mom note: She is unwavering in her own truth, yet never judges another who isn’t quite there yet. It’s one way that I want to be like her.)

WAVE – This one symbolizes all things water, especially her love of the ocean. She grew up swimming like a fish, always in our pool (in fact, we built it especially for her), and as soon as she got a taste of the sand and the sea, there was no turning back. Her heart swells for any and all days that she can spend at our beloved Long Beach Island and she braves our Garden State Parkway to get to the ocean any which way she can. (Mom note: Thank God we live in NJ and she goes to college in Central Florida. It’s the perfect place for a one-hour ride to this dream that she consistently makes a reality.)

MUSIC NOTE: From the little musical play that she was in as a child TO her fierce commitment to learning the guitar in middle school TO quitting lacrosse to pursue her passion for recording arts, Rachel reminds me that music sets her soul on fire. Music is one of the truest friends of her creative heart and mind. It gives her a place to create and connect, to relax and rejuvenate, to express and find refuge. (Last Mom note: I couldn’t believe it when she told me she wanted to take voice and piano lessons her senior year. After only a few short months but a lot of hard work, here was the result: ENJOY IT HERE!)

Every so often, I check in with Rachel about her FIVE things and which ones she’s finding easy and or more difficult depending on the season she’s in. Last week, when she returned home for her summer break and we were riding bikes at the beach, we spoke about this. She shared that this latest season of intense schooling for her future recording arts career has not allowed her to give attention to some of these FIVE. She is determined to spend the next eight weeks rediscovering and investing in them. However, just as in all things, it’s not that simple. The more complicated part is that it might mean saying “no” to some really good so that she can say a deeper “yes” to the important. And guess what? The puzzle table is back up. She’s reading Love Does by Bob Goff to get to know Jesus just a little bit better. She’s spending every possible minute either out by our pool or at the beach soaking in the sun and sand. She’s investing time and energy into her two best friends from home, her closest friend at school and her awesome family (If I say so myself, and I guess I just did, we are awesome!). And never-to-be-neglected, she is playing piano and guitar until the wee hours (I fell happily asleep last night as I listened to these pierce the quiet of our home) along with becoming better at “ear something or other” that I don’t even understand.

As a welcome home surprise, I bought her FIVE rings that have her FIVE things. The sparkle in her eyes as she opened the gifts told me everything I longed for. One of the main hopes I have as a parent had come true in this beautiful young woman: I desire that each of my children learn and then pursue who they uniquely are. I don’t want my children to be like me. (In fact, the term “Minnie-Me” gets me all up in my grill.) I truly want them to be themselves, to be the “one-of-a-kind” God has designed to be. It goes back to my favorite Dr. Seuss quote of all time, “Today, you are you. That is truer than true. There is no one alive that is youer than you.” I will be me. You be you!

The other day, Rachel reassured me that she no longer wants those tattoos on her fingers. I felt great relief for a brief moment until she blurted out, “Meg and I are going to get beach bike tattoos this summer.” My hope of a small, almost invisible tattoo is fading quickly. Yet, my hope for this girl to blossom in all her Rachelness is exploding!

Rachel has caused me to think about my own FIVE things. What symbols would I choose for what makes me unique, “one-of-a-kind”? What makes my heart come alive? What do I want to invest in that speaks of who I am and allows me to leave my very own personal mark on this lovely world that no one else can because they are just not me? What might I need to say “no” to for my deeper “yes”? I wrote a few of them down this morning. Stay tuned to a future blog post! What are your FIVE, or FOUR, or however many?

(As always, SHARE, comment, AND especially LIKE and comment on my post out on Social Media or here if you are a WordPress friend…this means the world to me! Plus, I do really want to know! For real!)

Anxiety, Family, Mental Health, motherhood

4.0 Prison

Posted on June 3, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“Worthiness doesn’t have prerequisites.” (Brene Brown)

Undefeated season. Rachel’s middle school basketball team’s final record was 21-0. The crowds came to every game and cheered wildly (I mean the parents and a few random middle schoolers came to some games, but yes, the cheers were wild). The team hugged and jumped up and down at the final buzzer of the championship game. A large trophy was given as the girls gathered center court . The parents beamed and frantic videos and photos were taken. The team picture went in the newspaper with a long article praising the efforts of the coach. Once in a lifetime. Perfection.

Sarah’s freshman fall semester at college. Worked extremely hard. No crowds cheered. Didn’t miss a class. No trophies were given. Read every assignment thoroughly. No photos were taken. Studied until the wee hours. No articles in the newspaper. End result: four A’s and one A-. Imperfection. Not 4.0. 3.95. (Even this paragraph is shorter.)

I was part of the crowd who cheered and took pictures and congratulated the coach and girls on a job well-done that winter of 2012. I was a proud parent. But underneath, I cringed before each game, knowing that the team was held captive by their continuing undefeated and perfect record. As the season marched on, it became worse. What would happen if they lost a game? Would they fall apart? What seemed amazing on the outside could have the potential of “messing” them up on the inside. I continually asked myself the question: is this actually a good thing? Thankfully, Rachel was second-string, being a mere seventh grader and the pressure was not on her directly. She had played in many games, but no one was counting on her skill set to accomplish this far-reaching, never-accomplished goal in the life of Central Middle School. She could enjoy success without the pressure of failure. But as I thought about those first-stringers, my heart went out to them, understanding the potential stress and perfection prison that just might be holding their hearts and minds captive. What some would call a good thing might just not be so. Call me crazy, but I secretly began to wish for at least one loss. As you read, it didn’t happen and life marched on. But at what cost?

I was also the comforting voice to an 18-year-old daughter as she received the news of her 3.95 right before Christmas of 2010. If anyone deserved all A’s and a 4.0, this girl did. By her nature, she poured effort upon effort into her studies, working when others were playing and getting up for early classes when others were sleeping in and skipping (yes, that was me in college). But inside and actually pretty vocally and loudly, I cheered her release from 4.0 PRISON. She could now move on throughout the rest of her college days without the underlying duress of perfection. Might sound strange to you, but it was an amazing relief to us both.

“4.0 PRISON” became a mantra in our house. A-‘s and B+’s (and sometimes even D’s – this is true. Ask Sarah.) were high-fived. Game losses were a normal part of sports. The “gift of imperfection,” as Brene Brown has coined it, was something we, with much trepidation, received with both confusion and gladness, fearing and embracing it at the same time our hearts were disappointed and frustrated with each loss or bad grade (some of my kids even failed tests and had to drop classes in college – imagine that). I was on a mission that my kids understand that their worth is NOT based on their performance (a new concept in our family and particularly myself), that life is full of successes and failures and neither of those define them and that I love and accept them no matter what. I took very small and shaky steps to embrace and share this newly-discovered message with them (neither an easy task):

LIVING FOR A PLACE OF LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE IS SLAVERY! LIVING FROM A PLACE OF LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE IS FREEDOM!

Fast-forward to last Sunday, one week before this Dolly Mama blog marks it’s one-year anniversary (cue balloons and congrats and trophies and loud cheers and pics). We were spending the weekend as a family on our beloved Long Beach Island when I spoke out loud for all to hear, “Oh no! I don’t have ANY views today. I have had a view EVERY SINGLE DAY for this whole year and I’m only one week away from accomplishing my goal of exactly that. Ugh. I didn’t post today since we are away and that usually produces my needed views for the week.” Remarks from audience: “Oh mom, I can go on your site today.” (Daughter) “That doesn’t count.” (Me) . “I will like one of your posts on Facebook and get it back up to the top. Someone will click on it.” (Husband) “It doesn’t work that way.” (Me) And the one that got me right in the heart: “4.0 prison, Mom.” (Son) “Ugh. You’re right.” (Me)

I thought I would be suddenly freed from this “blog-view jailhouse,” I had made for myself but I continued to check the blog throughout the day and was hugely relieved to see a visit to my charity:water post late in the evening, along with the confessed views of some of my children (I made them promise none of them had viewed the charity:water post which they pinky swore they hadn’t). 4.0 prison is right. Perfection. I am stuck there again. I have been checking all week and continue to have views every day. I am writing this on Saturday morning and currently, have no views today so far. Maybe I will be released. Or maybe I will have an “undefeated season” after all. It’s only 7:41 am. The battle rages on inside of me. I know that the “gift of imperfection” is what’s best for me. God accepts and loves me regardless. I am His one way or the other. Yet I hang on to perfection like it’s my life’s blood. I pray that I am released from this internal 4.0 prison no matter what happens today externally, whether on day 363 I have a view or not. I need that strong and good and beautiful and true voice to shout loudly and cheer me on as I listen (albeit reluctantly) once again:

LIVING FOR A PLACE OF LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE IS SLAVERY! LIVING FROM A PLACE OF LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE IS FREEDOM!

Let this freedom ring on in all of our hearts today!

(((UPDATE: I got views today, Saturday. I was kind of bummed in a weird way. I guess my freedom will have to come from the inside out, not the outside in. Imagine that!)))

Family, Friendship, Marriage, Uncategorized

Make a Marriage Great Again (Part 6 of 10 – Anniversary Edition)

Posted on May 17, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

It’s not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages. (Friedrich Nietzcsche)

This weekend marks the 27th anniversary of the date Allen and I said “I do,” May 18, 1991 (cute pic, don’t you think??). The weeks and months leading up to the big event were filled with all the romance human beings can muster: a promise ring given as the sun rises in the east and George Winston’s “Pachelbel Canon in D” plays in the background, love notes communicating the eager anticipation of our future lifetime together, passionate dates ending with lingering kisses , celebrations of our love in the forms of showers and parties with family and friends, and hearts that long for the knitting together of our bodies and souls.

The day finally arrives and the romance continues in all the typical wedding fare: songs declaring promises that “I Will Be Here,” vows exclaiming our undying love and commitment to one another, pictures of eyes gazing into each other, a big celebration with family and friends where I was told that the three most important words in a marriage were the following (from Allen’s dad, our very Pittsburghy Best Man): “Pirates, Penguins, Steelers” (okay not so romantic, but I digress), and a wedding night filled with dinner, candles and “you know.”

The romance is prolonged for the next 10 days as we spend our Honeymoon in a cabin nestled in the heart of the Smokey Mountains exploring underground caverns, dining at white-laced tablecloth eateries, white-water rafting, watching “The Hunt for Red October” (again, NOT so romantic and NOT one of Allen’s finer moments), bike-riding, long, lazy talks about our future, hiking to water falls through quiet walkways, spending uninterrupted time together (no cell phones in those olden days), and more “you know.” Life is just as I imagined it should and would be for the next 50 years: filled with the excitement and mystery of these things called love and marriage.

Enter reality: home rental with option to purchase, unexpected pregnancy only two short months in, long work hours, church commitments, and normal, every-day activities like paperwork, food prep, and yard work. Not sounding too romantic anymore. My dream is mildly shattered. Is this really what makes up marriage? How will we last? This just seems like a lot of hard work. And yes, yes it was and still is.

So without all the constant romance (which we still have after 27 years in fits and starts and are committed to), where does the rubber really meet the road? What is the force that weaves our hearts tightly together? I would hazard a guess that it finally dawned on us on our 10th anniversary, the first weekend we spent away from our four young children: FRIENDSHIP (there you have it, the 6th of the 10 “WTF’s” for marriage…see first five at end of post). I remember it like it was yesterday. We were hiking the Appalachian Trail, running desperately from a swarm of mosquitoes, hysterically laughing at ourselves and we just looked at each other and one of us said, “This is why we are married. We actually like each other.”

Without even knowing it, we had spent the first 10 years of our marriage cultivating a long-lasting friendship. We had, as Elisabeth Foley, describes, forged a relationship that “doubles your joy and divides your grief,” and we encountered the beautiful discovery that “true friends can grow separately without growing apart.”

Friendship is absolutely VITAL to the health of any marriage. It is forged through mutual trust, unconditional support and selflessness, all things that must be fought for and worked through. Marriage requires these marks of true and abiding friendship: equality, attachment, honesty, companionship, emotional safety, respect, understanding, vulnerability and closeness. There’s just no way around it.

To be candid, I am not always a good friend to Allen, nor he to me. We tend, in our humanness, to find fault, treat each other with contempt, push each other away, become too busy, listen half-heartedly, hide and shut down. And for these times, just as any true friendship needs, grace and compassion must flow out of our hearts for ourselves and each other. After all, this is really the stuff that makes up a lifetime of babies and home ownership, job changes and heart-breaking losses, bill paying and love-making.

So on this 27th anniversary (such a weird, random number), I write what I texted a friend this morning:

“I am actually in Pittsburgh spending the weekend with Allen, celebrating our anniversary. So so so thankful for my long-lasting friendship with him. That’s what my post will be about this weekend: our friendship in our marriage. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like without his constant companionship and friendship.” 😊

I love this man, my husband, from the depths of my soul. He has all that it takes to make a great friend: loyalty, kindness, compassion, grace, integrity, respect and understanding. What a gift he has given me.

One last aside. There is another piece to this puzzle that our Pittsburghy best man understood about marriage: entering into and embracing what is important to the other person is paramount to true and abiding friendship! It is telling the person: I will love what you love! As you can see below, I have done my best to make it a reality!

Happy Anniversary, Allen John Goetz! You have truly “doubled my joy and divided my grief!” Here’s to 27 (at least) more!

Enjoy the rest of the “WTF?” marriage series:

FOO, Fidelity, Flaws, Faithfulness, Forecast

Childhood, Family, motherhood, Uncategorized

My “Top 10” Epic Mom Fails (With Help from My Kids)

Posted on May 13, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“Some days I amaze myself. Other days, I put laundry in the oven.” (Moms Everywhere)

I am not sure if you will be horrified or happy when you read these. I mostly hope you feel like you aren’t the only one. HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! Here goes nothing (make sure you read with snarky voice in your head):

Letting nine-month-old “cry it out” during nap for 45 minutes only to find both legs stuck between crib rails after “giving in” and checking on baby (this was the olden days when this could actually happen).
Allowing (almost encouraging) 21-month-old to give “propped up” three-month-old sibling a ride in walker, smashing infant into kitchen cabinets, laughing hysterically and doing it again and again. (I hope I am remembering this wrong, but I doubt it.)
Forgetting about “RED DAY” in child’s kindergarten class. Only kid not wearing any red (except for a tiny spot on sneaker that child very sadly pointed to in desperation when the teacher asked what red they were wearing).
Leaving eight-year-old eating chips and watching movie in van with engine running, while watching freshman field hockey (van was kind of visible from side-line location. Checked on child at half-time).
Finding that our fourth child made own “memory verse chart” complete with stickers. (Believe this: there were numerous charts for the older three. One of the “OhMyGoodnessThisIsCrazy” moments of parenting!)
Forgetting to inform “pet sitter” about two tree frogs for week-long, very hot, summer vacation. End result: crispy critters.
Making 12-year-old babysit for 14 (yes, you heard that right) younger kids in basement while five couples have “Bible Study” upstairs for 2 hours every other week. (Reminded this week that 10- and 11-year-olds were hot-gluing sequins to their heads in said basement and forcing the 4- and 5-year-olds to be their servants.)
Leaving two middle school boys home alone with all the necessary equipment to make a blow torch in garage (think water gun, gasoline, and a BIC multi-purpose lighter).
Picking up tipsy teenager from a party and driving at midnight to Walmart to get a breathalyzer to no avail. Driving around until 1 am searching and finding a police officer, asking him to give test (NOTE: police officer did not comply). Driving home making threats of grounding for life.
Standing in driveway holding on to the hood of college student’s car, supposedly preventing college student (in mild – okay not so mild – argument with) from leaving. Doesn’t work (shocker). College student gets out and leisurely walks down street to awaiting friend’s car, while yours truly is screaming “don’t come back.” Topping it off, our neighbor most likely sees the insanity unfold in all its glory.

I hope this has brought you much laughter and grace for yourself and all the other moms you know (especially me). I need grace and kindness and love and to be told it will all be okay and we are all just a little desperate and nuts sometimes! Happy Mother’s Day to those of you who love your little, or not-so-little-anymore, kids and grownups. You are doing a great job (and if you aren’t today or weren’t yesterday or might not tomorrow, take a moment to laugh at yourself just a little).

(SINCE I’VE PUT MYSELF OUT THERE AND FEEL BASICALLY LIKE I SHED SOME OF MY CLOTHES IN PUBLIC, I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ONE OF FUNNY EPIC FAILS! PLEASE COMMENT HERE OR GO BACK OUT TO SOCIAL MEDIA AND COMMENT THERE. I NEED SOME GOOD LAUGHS TODAY!)

Family, Friendship, Grief, motherhood

Cheers to You Cathy! (and your beautiful girls you loved so very very much)

Posted on April 15, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“I am exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel.” (Whisper Quotes)

April 14, 2017. Good Friday. “My beautiful daughters were killed in a head on collision on I-17 by no fault of their own. They died instantly and went home to be with the Lord.”

It’s been one year. One year. Hard to believe. Hard to still fathom what happened and especially why it happened. Losing one child is hard enough. But losing both? Horrible.

Cathy was one of my best and dearest friends in high school. Our parents worked at the same mission organization and we went to the same church and youth group. We both grew up in different parts of Africa so we had that in common. We both had the middle name of Joy and we sang together in competitions under the name of Double Joy. We had boatloads of fun, dated friends, were on our Bible quiz team, loved one another fiercely, and even got in some mischief together (like the time we were arrested because I pointed a dismantled BB gun out of the window of my car and an undercover policeman happened to see it…long story for another time). I think my mom made me “break up” with her because of this (little did my mom know that I was really the one to blame and Cathy was the one who should have been breaking up with me). Needless to say, Double Joy (and maybe Double Trouble) fit us perfectly.

After I left for college, Cathy went on in her career and then moved to North Carolina to become a highly successful mortgage loan officer and then top sales rookie for Aflac Insurance Company her first year. During that time, she raised two beautiful girls, Karli and Kelsey, into wonderful adult women. Karli went to Grand Canyon University and was about to graduate at the end of April 2017 with a BA in Communications with plans to get her masters degree. Kelsey was a Bio-Medical Premed student at Western Carolina University. They both loved life, their Savior, their friends, their mom and one another! Please read more HERE.

In the early-morning hours of Good Friday, April 14, 2017, the girls were killed in a wrong-way crash. Please check out the first news story HERE. There are more links to come.

Photos, videos, condolences, tributes and a GoFundMe fundraiser immediately flooded social media on behalf of Cathy and her girls. News stories from North Carolina and Arizona went viral. Check them out HERE and HERE.

Three days later, April 17, 2017, Cathy posted:

“The past 72 hours have been more than I can bear and my sorrow and broken heart I can’t even share. So much I want to say but I still just can’t. My tears are many and my soul and body know no rest.”

The morning of the viewing:

“Tomorrow starts the worst 36 hours of my life. I’m afraid to even go to bed because it means I have to wake up. I still struggle to breathe and function. I ask for much prayer as I truly physically and mentally hurt more than I ever thought possible. Smarli and Smelsey, Mommy is here and will love you forever. My heart belongs to you both forever and my life will forever be unhappy because your smiles and laughter will not be seen or heard anymore on this earth. I’m jealous of those in heaven as they get to be near and with you: which is where I want to be. Mommy”

The day of the funeral:

“Today I bury my children, something a mother should never have to do. I ask for prayers every minute as I do the final task for my children today, the one last thing I can do for them as mommy. I will lift them up to the Lord and I will speak on their behalf.”

That afternoon, with the church packed to the gills, Cathy stood on stage for more than an hour, at times reading from notes, but more often speaking freely and telling stories about her girls. She spoke haunting words to the audience, asking “Are You Listening?,” wanting others to heed the call of her girls’ tragic and undeserved deaths. You can actually watch the Youtube video HERE.

Fundraisers all across Arizona and North Carolina popped up. Richard Petty’s iconic #43 race car drove in honor of the girls. Dutch Brothers Coffee in Arizona raised money. A GoFund Me page was set up and more money poured in than expected. Vigils were held. Benches were dedicated. Pictures were painted. Videos were made. Trees were planted. Letters of support came from across the globe.

Only 10 days later, Cathy flew to Arizona and walked in Karli’s place at the Grand Canyon University graduation ceremony to receive her daughter’s diploma. Check out this article and the following very touching interview.

In the painful weeks to follow, Cathy spent time with family, friends, Cathy’s kids (a group of several young adults who call her “Mom” and spent Mother’s Day with her) and her cats, found a plot of land to build K2 Ranch, a home she wants to invite others into in honor of the girls, and went to vigils and fundraisers. She grieved often and openly, finding some purpose in their deaths. Read more HERE.

Kelsey’s birthday, July 15, was marked by great grief and incredible joy as friends gathered to celebrate her:

“July 15, 1998. Kelsey Mae Richardson was born. Intense labor and you entered the world screaming. Full head of hair, the famous eyebrows and the beautiful pouty lips: from day one you had it all. You grew into a incredibly smart, beautiful, full of life, talented loving young woman: only to have it all taken away in the blink of an eye. From the moment I heard you to the moment I first held you, I loved you! As you grew and got mouthy, then extra sweet, then clingy, then adventurous and even more beautiful than ever, I loved you more. Your incredible mind made you uniquely different and as that developed I became your best friend: the one who really understood you and “got you”. Kelsey, I still “got you”! You now have a future with the Lord God Almighty, and “He got you” way more than I do. HE is your protector now and your guide: watching you love and laugh as you run around heaven carrying Karli. I know where you are today on your birthday, you are with Jesus, you are celebrating with the Most High. Tonight look down about dusk, I’m sending presents up to heaven to you tonight. You’ll love it and you’ll think to yourself: “aw, mom still has my back”. I gotcha Smelsey, I love you and miss you and I gotcha! Happy Birthday Kelsey, mommy loves you forever and always”

Eleven days later, the truth came out. The girls had definitely been killed because of too much alcohol. Cathy began to share their story anywhere and everywhere people would listen, at Kelsey’s college, on the radio, and through social media. She desired (and still does) to inform others about the dangers and devastation of drinking and driving.

In late August, I had the chance to spend the day with this incredible woman. We drove around with the top down in her fancy sports car and enjoyed the gentle breeze and the beautiful day. She showed me her land and her plans to build K2 Ranch. She shared endless stories about her amazing girls. She took me to see Memorials that have been made and we even stopped in to visit local veterans at Richards Coffee Shop which houses Welcome Home Veterans Living Military Museum where she and the girls spent so much time and energy honoring those who have served and continue to. We even stopped to see one of her clients that she “gave a talking to” about how his choices were bad for his health and his family, but that she was still going to try to get whatever money she could for him from the insurance company. We ended our time with a wonderful dinner on a lake at her favorite local eatery and she still had time to drive me home and have a quick visit with my parents. I was enamored by her. Her grief was open. Her spunk was not destroyed. Her joy was unhindered. Her love for others was evident. Her heart was the same, filled with adventure and kindness. She was all of those things at the same time and in the same moments.

More grief as her cat Ollie dies on September 12:

“I woke up to find the cancer had finally won the battle with my precious little Ollie. A year ago Ollie walked into my yard and rescued me. I didn’t rescue him, he rescued me. God knew this would be the year of my life that would forever change me, and He gave me this little guy to sit on me when I’d cry, sleep with me at night so I wouldn’t be alone, be silly and cause laughter and smiles. To be loved completely and greeted immediately: that’s my Ollie. What he gave was what humans just can’t give me this year. He helped me to be calm when I was restless and lost. I love you Ollie and I’m so grateful for you saving me this year. Give kisses to Karli and Kelsey and tell them I miss them and love them.”

September 14, 2017

“Five months ago, God took you both home. I still don’t understand why but I’m trying. I struggle daily and some days are good and others unbearable. My heart is heavy but when I close my eyes I can feel your soft skin and smell your hair and feel it run through my fingers as I hug you tight and you hug me back. So brokenhearted today…”

September 17, 2017 Cathy spoke:

“I had the honor to speak at Western Carolina University on behalf of my beautiful daughter about the tragedies of drunk driving. It was a emotional night but I know God is using my beautiful girls for His glory and knowing this I will make it through life until one glorious day I have them both in my arms again.”

Cathy spent Christmas with her elderly mom, but it was an unimaginably hard day:

“1 year ago. Laughing and smiling and loving my life 100%!!! All I love around me. Never again will smiles be the same or a fully happy heart. God let’s me know they are happier than I can imagine but my heart is broken beyond imagination. Thank you for texts calls and emails. Knowing I’m prayed for and my children are not forgotten is one thing that warms my heart and makes me smile. May they never be forgotten. My soul will one day be full again when the Lord takes me home and I will feel them in my arms and hear their laughs and smell their hair and know that my babies are with me and we are together.”

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On New Years’ Eve, the reality of the night ahead pierced Cathy’s heart. Too much drinking and possible driving tonight. Other families will grieve as a result. She warned:

“I pray you all READ and remember: SHARE this especially tonight.

This should never have happened. My incredibly smart, funny, loving and beautiful daughters should be ALIVE today! DRUNK DRIVING caused this, killed them and killed the drunk too! DO NOT DRIVE DRUNK TONIGHT!!! For EVERYONES sake DO NOT DRIVE DRUNK TONIGHT! No mother should get the knock on the door tomorrow morning like I did. If you think it can’t happen to you, it happens. DO NOT DRIVE DRUNK!!!!!!!!!!!”

Cathy’s birthday, January 7, is marked by another day of horror and beauty, brokenness and redemption:

“There was a plan that the girls devised, of how our older years would be and how the girls would take care of me. Kelsey would work and make all the money. Karli would watch all the children and clean Kelsey’s house and mine. I was the cook and financial planner. We would all live on 15 acres which Kelsey would buy with her “doctor’s” income. Today, they are taking care of me but in a way that I wish I could change. I’d rather live in a tent than live without them! But today, they are building me a ranch house in the country to live and retire in. It will be handicap accessible and will protect and care for me. Beautiful acreage and everything I could possibly ever need and want. They are providing for me and caring for me from above in a way I never thought of. It’s hard and emotional to build this. I cry almost every time I go out to see it. People ask if I’m angry at God, and the answer is sometimes I am. I cry and I yell and I wonder why everyday. Yet, through all this He made sure I would still be cared for as I was left here on earth: they are caring for me and keeping their word and will forever provide for me till I see them again. My precious babies mommy loves you so much and I can’t wait till the Lord brings us back together again in heaven…”

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In February, we had lunch together as I was back in Charlotte to care for my mom. She spoke of how she was doing, what was happening with the ranch, and listened to my stories with a kind heart. Again, she was authentic and vulnerable, not sugar-coating her grief, but also filled with laughter, the same girl I had known my whole life. It marked a wonderful three hours as we tried to eat healthy, but ended up having some treats, just like two 50-somethings would do when they went out to lunch. So normal, yet so “not normal.” It’s never normal to talk about your children’s deaths and all the after effects.

March 26, 2018, Karli’s 21st birthday, another speaking engagement and a cake made by a friend. Another day of grief and beauty.

Good Friday, March 30, 2018:

“A few weeks ago I got permission from the new owners of our old home to remove a 10 year old Pin Oak tree that Karli and I planted when she was in 3rd grade. It was a sprig in a paper cup she brought home from school and insisted we plant. She watched over and watered and protected that sprig, and it actually began to grow. I will be able to look out my back porch and see the tree that my little big girl and I planted years ago, and as it grows I will remember my little big girl who never gave up and believed that she could do anything she put her mind to.”

Same day, right before bed:

“Many of you have texted, called, messaged and done very kind things for me today: and I truly appreciate it all. It is Good Friday and last year the girls died on this day. I struggle daily with so much. I remember day one, minute one, second one when each were born. How I long to go back. April 14 will be the toughest, the actual day when 1 year will have passed without us laughing, hugging, talking, giggling, watching Scooby Doo, going to DQ and Pomodoros, watching movies with Gma, shopping and sharing in the life we had put together and loved so much. Karli I can’t stand it that I don’t get your constant Facetime calls, and Kelsey it’s almost unbearable to sit on the couch on Fridays now and know you aren’t going to walk through the door and surprise me with a weekend visit. God needed you and I don’t know why, but knowing how safe and loved you are up in heaven gives me the comfort I need to know I will see you again: I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN! Good Friday is a important day and when I think about it you both are so special and important it makes sense He would take you home on that day: you had to go and you both were so good and how honored to go home on the day the Lord did too. He will rise on Sunday, and because of that you rose out of your grave and are with Him: and someday I will be up there also and again we will laugh and hug and be together again, only this time forever. Nothing will ever again separate us once God brings us back together again. Pain and suffering, forever down here I will have, but Praise God for Easter as one day all suffering will end.”

April 7, 2018 “In one week it’s been a year. Breakdown today. I can’t take it.”

Sunday night, April 8, I sent her a message.

“I have felt so compelled to write a tribute to YOU this week on my blog. For a year, your heart has been laid out for all to see and especially the excruciating pain you have gone through. I have admired from near and far. I just want to give you a huge shout out, but wanted to get your permission first. It will be a way to honor you, your heart, what you want to come of this and also your girls and their legacy. You are one beautiful soul, Cathy, and I want to honor you.”

Her reply:

“Oh thank you Esther. How kind. I’d be honored and humbled.”

April 9, 2018 “Karli’s tree is doing beautifully if you look closely there are full buds on every branch of the tree is living just like Karli and Kelsey are living in heaven above mommy loves and misses you both so much.”

April 14, 2018 Cathy is currently in Arizona heading on a hike and a luncheon to honor the girls on the anniversary of their deaths. A “Come Light a Candle Event” is taking place in North Carolina. These girls were so loved and they are very missed. This morning, her heart poured out again.

“I was reminded last week that Paul told us in Philippians that we all should run the race to receive the prize for the mark of the high calling. It hit me, it really hit me. God puts us here to run the race for Him and we are to run for Him and when we have won the race He put us on earth for, He takes us home. God gave me two incredibly and wonderfully-made girls and by the age of 18 and 20, they had finished the race TOGETHER that God intended for them. I sat there looking up to heaven with tears streaming down my face and all I could think of was ‘I get it!.’ They ran the race for the mark of the high calling and they won! My children ran and they won!”

So Cathy, here’s to you, sweet Mama, and to your beautiful and broken heart. Your girls won their race and you are winning yours! So many times, we wait until a funeral (really until it’s too late) to tell people how valuable they are and what they mean to us. You did not do that with your girls. You told them every day how much you loved them and what they meant to you. I am learning that from you. So today, I choose to tell you this: YOU are the one left here and standing and sad and YOU are beautiful and important and wonderful. I see you. I hear you. You matter. You haven’t given up. You’ve been authentic and real in the heartache and struggle of it. You have questioned and trusted God through it all. You’ve honored your girls in such a profound way. You’ve loved those around you. I love you. Cheers to you Cathy!

Celebration, Family, Friendship, Thanks

Best Friday!

Posted on April 1, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land.” (Song of Songs 2:12)

For months now, the anticipation has been building! The final countdown came about 10 days ago. Last night, it came to fruition. Yes, I know it was Good Friday, the day we Christians reflect on the unconditional love of God as found in the death of Jesus Christ. But this Good Friday had been named “BEST FRIDAY” by my friend Jody several months ago when she planned her future wedding date. “Come to my wedding on Best Friday,” was her invitation to her family and friends, Allen and I being among them. “Can’t wait, Jody!” was my reply and I sent emojis and texts over the past few weeks reminding us both of the imminent celebration!

Jody is one of the members of my women’s group, the Beautiful Mess, that meets every Thursday morning. She has been with us from the very first day over 11 years ago. On that day, we found out that her dad and my mom were raised by missionary parents in the same small African country, working for the same small organization and actually had grown up together. Immediately, we had a connection and an unbreakable bond. I loved her from the start. As I spent time with her, I found her bright, sunny smile, gracious heart, and super upbeat, yet laid-back disposition intriguing and delightful. Her relationship with her four boys wins her the “best mom award” (as I playfully reminded them last night and heard no argument…in fact, they were all very quick to agree). I am pretty fierce in my love for and desire to protect her.

Thanks to Jody, this phrase “Best Friday” has been reverberating in my head and heart for quite some time. The excitement of the anticipation of something long-waited for has brought me sheer enjoyment. Coupled with the fact that this “Best Friday” celebration marked the end of my 40-day fast, Jody would receive “her happily ever after.” This put a huge smile right on my heart (and my face, I will admit). The fast had started the day after my birthday, one celebration, and was ending it with another. I couldn’t have asked for better book ends. And celebrate we did. Dancing. Food. Friends. Love.

I am so thankful for the fast. I removed the external, physical pleasure for the sole purpose of internal, soul-level healing. It brought me better health, both physically and spiritually. It reminded me that I am much more than JUST the physical. It’s a mystery to me how it works (even though I am confident that it definitely does) and I’m okay with that.

Richard Foster, in his book, Celebration of Discipline, speaks of all the “serious-side of spiritual growth” practices like prayer, meditation, solitude, fasting, etc. They are valuable. They matter. But one of my favorite chapters is titled the “Discipline of Celebration.” Wait? What? Celebration is a discipline in and of itself? Why?

After last night, I am again reminded of why. Why do we dance and cheer and weep for joy along with our friend who finds the love of her life? Why do we buy balloons and ice cream cakes (which I am doing again today for our son Josh) to celebrate the birth of someone? Why do we get dressed up, go to church, have egg hunts and gather with family on Easter Sunday?

Celebration says to others, “you are valuable, I choose you today,” not out of convenience, but actually with fierce intentionality. It says, “I really know you and love you. You matter.”

Yes! There are times for fasting! The practice is invaluable. In fact, I want to incorporate it into my week and not just go back to “business as usual.” I want be reminded often of HOSANNA (God, Come Save Us!).

But yes! Last night, on Best Friday, the time for fasting was over. It marked the time for feasting and celebration! At least for the three days this weekend! Here goes!

Jody, you are valuable. I love you. What matters to you matters to me! I celebrate with you! As John said to me last night, “Jody is the best person I have ever met! I promise you I will take care of her!” How could I not do a little internal leap for joy (and some external leaps as well for those of you who saw me dancing the night away) as I know you are fully-known and fully-loved by this man! Yippee!

Josh, you are valuable! I love you. Your birth marks one of the best days in my life! I hope that you find that we, as a family, celebrate all the facets of who you are. You are truly one of a kind! You are loyal, bold, curious, and determined, along with being super quirky! You one of my favorite people in the whole word! How could I not have tears welling up in the corner of my eyes as I write this! Yippee!

Jesus, you are valuable! I love you. You matter! Your fierce pursuit of me by your coming to earth, living among us humans, dying on that cruel cross and then overcoming the worst that humanity could do to you by rising from that death is the reason I have hope for the healing of my heart (and you readers out there by the way)! I can’t wait to join my family to celebrate you on Easter Sunday! I choose you! Yippee!

Happy Easter to each of you! Let’s celebrate together! (Even if it’s just on our screens!)

Family, Grandparenthood, motherhood

To Pick Up or Put Down (Every Parent’s Never-Ending Battle)

Posted on March 11, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“Have a heart soft enough to give love and mercy, but wise enough to know boundaries.” (Kayil Crow)

It has started: Our daughter’s battle whether or not to put her four-month old down (cry it out) or pick him up when he is fussy. Believe me, both have been tried. (Don’t let the pics of the happy baby fool you.) The truth is holding him tends to calm him. He sleeps better. He stops crying. He is basically happier.

It continues: Our daily battle about how much to help our adult children (pick them up when they are “fussy”) or let them figure things out on their own (many times painful and uncomfortable). Believe me, both have been tried. For decades. The truth is helping them tends to calm them. They sleep better. They stop “fussing.” They are basically happier.

It never stops: My aging parent’s battle about how much to help their youngest son with the care of his children while my mom goes through radiation treatment during the next several weeks. This is a big one: he lost his wife about a year ago and the situation is complicated. They are 84. He is 56. It never ends. The truth is helping him calms the situation. Everyone sleeps better. The “fussing” is abated. He is basically happier.

If you are a parent, you can completely relate, no matter how old your child is. It can be teaching a baby to sleep by themselves, driving a forgotten homework assignment to school for your elementary daughter, purchasing a car for your new driver, allowing an adult child to live at home rent-free for a season, watching grandchildren for your middle-aged son, the list goes on and on. I’m sure you can add your own. The questions are basic: how much do I “pick up,” help, console, “save the day,” when my child has a need or even a want? How much do I let them “ride out the storm,” figure it out on their own, “put them down” so to speak? Where is that line drawn? When is that line drawn? How is that line drawn? What choice should we make so that we are promoting emotional health and good boundaries, yet making sure the other feels safe and completely loved?

I am becoming keenly aware of how daily of a battle this is, no matter how old the parent or child is. I am also highly in tune right now with how many opinions everyone has about this and how strong those opinions are. I also realize how often I go to others to ask this very basic question: what should I do in “X” situation with “such-and-such” child? Do I pick them up or put them down?

For many years, I went back and forth, always unsure if what I was doing in any given situation was right. I felt trapped. If I “picked them up,” I heard the voices that shouted, “You are doing too much. Your boundaries are too lax. They need to learn for themselves. This is unhealthy. This is bad.” If I didn’t help, I heard opposing voices, “You aren’t doing enough. Your boundaries are too rigid. They need to feel loved and not alone. This is unhealthy. This is bad.” Ugh. And if the truth is known, I still struggle with this and it is real and it is still almost every day.

Today, I share with you my “half-thoughts” on the subject. A “half-thought” is something I am still in process about and haven’t completely “landed” anywhere quite yet, but still want to share. I hope these bring you some freedom for the “back-and-forth,” trapped feeling you may find yourself in today:

Even though the questions are easy, the situations are complicated. No two are the same and rarely is there a quick answer or fix. Rest in that.
This dilemma is part of being a parent, period. There’s no getting out of it.
Other parents are in the same boat. We all need each other, not to judge and give solutions, but to listen and give grace.
Don’t ask yourself if the decision is right or wrong, black or white, good or bad. Rarely are decisions that we make all one way or the other. That’s an exhausting treadmill and only promotes fear, guilt and shame. Either decision will have both difficult and wonderful attached to it. Usually it’s some combination of beautiful and messy.
Ask yourself these questions instead: What do I really need? Why do I want to help? What do they really need? Take the long-view and dig a little deeper.
Change your mind if you need to. Take the time to re-evaluate and get counsel from others. There is great freedom here.
Show yourself boatloads of grace no matter what you decide. Remind yourself that God loves both of you and He can come in and provide all that’s lacking no matter what decision is made in the moment.
I leave you with my biggest one for this past six months because many days I just don’t know what to do. This verse comes up every single day on my reminders. I pray it every morning:

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives GENEROUSLY and FREELY to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. (James 1:5)

I don’t think it ever ends. I am growing and being stretched and learning to love in a healthy, hope-filled, very complicated kind of way. I kind of like it.

Childhood, Faith, Family, Third Culture Kid

1,246 Missionary Slides (The Best and the Worst)

Posted on February 11, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

“You know you’re a missionary kid when you see a picture of your family on random peoples’ refrigerators.” (Anonymous)

Two weeks before Thanksgiving, Jared scanned all of my parents’ slides from Africa. It’s one of those projects that keeps getting put off, but we actually tackled it and got it done. They were coming here for the holiday and all of my siblings and my parents were going to be together. So, on Thanksgiving Eve, we spent most of the afternoon viewing them on the large TV screen in our family room and heard stories about each one. Needless to say, we made a pretty good dent.

That same weekend, in conjunction with the slides, I asked my parents about the “Five Best and Worst Things” about being a missionary in the latter half of the 20th Century. I seized the opportunity to listen and learn what it was like from their perspective. I have had my personal kid’s-eye-view and have spent years processing my own experience (good and bad), but I was in the dark about theirs. Truth be told, I heard stories that corroborated my memories and beliefs and learned many things that were new and unexpected.

Picnic up in mountains of Deder - Esther 5 week check up. David home for weekend.

Tim, Esther and Ethiopian Children 1968=69

Here are their Top Five(ish):

Mom Worst

Deputation. Dragging the kids around to all kinds of churches in the USA trying to raise money. (This seems nuts to me and I remember how we all didn’t like it either.)
No converts. Questioning what they were doing there.
Terrible food.
Leaving her kids at boarding school. It was a heartbreak.
Not getting along with other missionaries.

Mom Best (she only had Four)

Freedom not to be encumbered with constant schedules.
Teaching in the school.
Experiences that you were exposed to that were “out of the norm.”
Getting to know people from all over the world. The friendships they developed.

Dad Worst (he only had Three)

So few converts. Asked himself, “what are we doing here?”
Deputation. (see above crazy-making)
Not getting along with other missionaries (I’m seeing a pattern).

Dad Best

Learning another language.
Traveling to new places.
Seeing kids learn in the school where they were teaching.
The experience with the death of a close friend who was gunned down in front of his wife by an extremist and how God protected him and my mom. (sounds like a best and worst to me)
Meeting people from other countries (missionaries and nationals) and all the friendships they made.

I learned a lot about my parents over Thanksgiving and continue to. This past week, we plowed ahead through more slides during a visit as my mom is recovering from surgery after being diagnosed with cancer. It makes our time even more precious and the learning and gleaning even more pressing. So far, here are my top five takeaways which are for all of us, missionary kid or not (sorry, the new correct phrase is third culture kid).

My Takeaways

There were a lot of slides of animals I only now see in zoos. Growing up in another country meant having a different experience than your average American kid (like my husband). Attending boarding school, living as a minority and foreigner, knowing people from all over the world, being surrounded by war and poverty, vacationing in exotic places, and eating strange food is not your average American childhood. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m sure you wouldn’t trade yours either, no matter how or where you grew up. It makes us into the people we are today, both broken and beautiful.
Those 18 years my parents spent serving God in a far-away country was exciting, hard, beautiful and complicated all at the same time. Like all of our lives, my parents’ lives were filled with struggles and triumphs, joys and sorrows. I draw comfort in knowing this. My “normal” adult life has looked very different from theirs on the outside. But my own life has been filled with the exciting, hard, beautiful and complicated as well. It’s not what’s happening on the outside that matters most. It’s what’s happening on the inside.
They matter and all their experiences matter. It was really good for me to take a peek from their point-of-view, to understand all of this effected them, as well as us four kids, for both good and bad. I have been so wrapped up in my own “how this effected me” for a long time. It was helpful to step out of that for a moment to see the view through another lens. I want to do this more often with all those I know. My life will be richer when I do.
Our family mattered to my parents. My mom wants to delete every slide that doesn’t have one of us in it. She keeps saying, “What does that matter to our family?” I love this. For a long time, I had a warped perspective on this. My view was that “God’s work” was more important than our family. It’s just not true for the Marets at the very core. It’s so good for me to know that. It brings great healing to me. Yes. They made mistakes. Yes. It was very hard and unusual. BUT. Yes. They did their best. Yes. They loved us. (Doesn’t sound very different from my own family and my own children.) This is where grace comes in and wins!
Life comes down to people. People are the hardest parts of our lives. People are the best parts of our lives. It doesn’t matter where we are in the world, what cultural differences we have, or what we are trying to accomplish together, it all boils down to people and the relationships we build with them. People bring the most frustration and hurt, but they also bring the most joy and healing. We can try to avoid people and all the “bad” stuff they bring, but in doing so, we miss out on all the hope and healing and love that they bring to us. People are worth it!

My heart is for greater healing for each of us. This project is bringing me much. It brings me back to what matters most: being fully-known and loved, but with a twist. This time was not about me being known, but getting to know another. That’s my unexpected surprise. I hope this will prompt you to take on a project (person) of your own. Who knows what will happen?

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Childhood, Friendship, Thanks

SURPRISE! A Super Kid and an “Up Sydrome” Adult…TT (Season #01, Episode #07)

Posted on February 1, 2018January 27, 2022 by Esther Goetz

Sometimes, someone comes into your life so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise and changes your life forever. (viacuriano.com)

The past two Tuesday evenings, I “cheated” on my husband and went on two dates. The first was with a little beacon of light, my five-year old friend named Olivia. We went and got ice cream FIRST, poked into a pet store and checked out the fish and the hamsters, went to Staples and spun around on chairs and bought Silly Putty, ate pizza while we bowled, and ended our night playing arcade games. The second one was with my friend Robby, a man who thinks he should have something called “Up Syndrome.” He is right. We ate hamburgers and french fries (only pickle, ketchup and a bun for him), enjoyed ice cream (see a running theme here), played a matching game that he handily beat me 12-8 and sat and watched a couple of episodes of Full House while we waited for his dad to pick him up.

Of course, I made these “dates” to bring help to my friends who are the caregivers of these precious souls. I mean, what parent wouldn’t want someone to come along and love on their child while they get a much-needed break? But as usual, God seems to have had something else up His sleeve.

God is wise and knows what He is doing. He knows exactly how to reach deep into our hearts and souls and bless us, heal us. Many times, when we think we are helping others, we are being helped.

These two people I spent time with couldn’t appear more different. One is a typical little girl who is navigating Kindergarten (learning her ABCs with the Super Kids reading program – anyone heard of Cass who loves to Cook Casseroles in the kitchen with her Cat, Coconut). The other is an adult male with Down Syndrome (and I totally agree with him, why isn’t it called Up Syndrome?) who goes to Pride College (as he calls it), a school for adults with special needs.

They are so dissimilar at first glance. Olivia is 5. Robby is 30. Olivia is a fireball. Robby is chatty. Olivia likes soccer. Robby likes swimming. Plain, straight-up different. But, as you know, God is filled with surprises and likes us to repent (all that means is THINK A NEW THOUGHT) for our own journey of healing and wholeness. These two beautiful souls are alike in so many ways that really matter, thus bringing me to tears filled with gratitude (hence the Thankful Thursday post).

They BOTH see the world through fresh eyes. Everything is exciting to them. The simple things I take for granted and go through the motions doing are seen with a new vision. Spinning around on chairs at Staples (don’t judge me) and imitating Joey imitating Popeye while watching Full House are enjoyed to the full (check out the video below).

They BOTH are very smart and want to learn and grow. Olivia is able to tell me all the rules in her classroom along with counting in both English and Spanish to 20. Robby is able to tell me all about his family (who is still alive and who has passed on and what towns they live in and how they are all related to him) and also actually spelled out words for me when I had a hard time figuring out what he was trying to tell me (he has a speech impediment).
They BOTH are free with their love. And I mean FREE! No holds barred. When I look at how closed off and closed up I am, it is such a beautiful thing to watch and then experience personally. Their complete, uninhibited love for me frees my own heart just a little bit more. I don’t have to hold back either and I am free to love them in return (this is not a lesson to be learned, but a heart to be changed and healed).

This all sounds so magical. But to be honest, this is how it really played out. The first date was super easy and I was looking forward to it. I have spent the better part of the past 30 years immersed in children: children’s ministry and having my own children. I love children. They are easy for me to figure out. I actually play a little game with them to see if I can get each one to open up and light up when I interact with them. My goal is connection and I like the hardest and most closed off ones the most. It’s an adventure that I embrace fully. And I am usually successful.

Leading up to the second date was hard for me. I knew I wanted to stretch myself and go outside my comfort zone, but I was very nervous. What would we talk about? Would there be awkward silences? How much do I have to keep him occupied? How long should it be? Will he be bored or afraid? What happens if something goes terribly wrong? It’s sad to say that I have never spent time with anyone with special needs other than in passing during child ministry. I feel downright confused and uncomfortable, and there is probably some “special needs phobia” I struggle with. But this is a man I kiss every Sunday (he’s the only other man in my life I kiss right on the lips other than Allen) when I grab my church bulletin from him. A date was certainly the next logical step (I hear you. Kissing usually comes after you’ve had a date or two).

Like I voiced earlier, God is a God of surprises. The first date was not a surprise, but filled with all the goodness I expected. Olivia was a bundle of light, joy and curiosity that touched the depths of my heart with exactly what I needed that evening. However, the second date was one of the happiest surprises of 2018 so far. Robby made it easy to connect. He answered all the questions I asked. He shared his likes and dislikes without fanfare. He embraced each activity I had planned for him. He even put his feet up on our coffee table and relaxed in his socks while we watched his all-time favorite show. He was happy and made it so easy to be with him. It was one of the best first dates I’ve ever had, filled with all the goodness I did not expect.

These will not be the only dates I have with these two. Next time, Olivia and I might paint together (I learned that about her on our first date) and Robby and I will go bowling, but still eat hamburgers and have Diet Coke (I learned that about him on our first date). I want to get to know both of them better so our time together is even more to their liking.

Isn’t this what so much of our journeys are all about? Meeting others, getting to know them and loving them right where they are. Connection. Relationship. Intimacy. Freedom.

I don’t do this often, but today I will ask this question: how about you? What surprise can you be on the lookout for, that God has up His sleeve just for you, possibly a person that might bring more healing to your heart? It might be a typical individual or someone with special needs. It might be someone in your family or a complete stranger. It might be someone similar to you or a person completely and utterly different. It might be someone you already know or a brand new person you’ve never met. Expect the unexpected! Right now, I just envision God crouching down behind His heavenly “couch” and jumping up when you come in the door and shouting “SURPRISE!”

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Enjoy the rest of the “WTF?” marriage series:

FOO, Fidelity, Flaws, Faithfulness, Forecast

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