normal

Life has changed me, being a prison mom, I'll admit. I think someone wisely said "normal is just a setting on a dryer". I can't take credit for that salient witty bit, but I live out the realization daily. And even more so as I strive to find my "normal" setting again. I decided I was getting too comfortable in my recovery group, among great people with great flaws, who know mine and don't question me unless I need them to, or ask them. So it was back to a ladies Bible study group, because after being a church greeter I came to the conclusion it is probably good to know people's names that come through the door outside of my "in" crowd. I'll admit, I felt nervous going. I decided to just sit quietly and listen before volunteering too much information. And the needs around the table were real enough including a young mother alone, my friend with an incurable auto-immune disease, divided families, handicapped children. I know no one leads a charmed life. Appearances are deceiving.

After a few weeks I sort of looked upon the last meeting that is coming up with a tinge of regret. And I did share about Brandon. Lesson questions made this inevitable if I were really to be honest and let these women in to my life. But something was mentioned last week that reminded me I'm not the same person I was three years ago. One mother mentioned that her daughter was in the habit of bringing home "weirdos", and lamented, "Why can't she bring home normal kids?" And she added descriptions-kids that wear all black, dye their hair, have multiple piercings, etc. My former pastor used to say it looked like Halloween at the mall every week, which always aggravated me. But to her credit, this mom said she needed God to hit her upside the head. She found a letter in her daughter's jean's pocket from one of the "weirdos" telling her friend she hated herself and wanted to die. When I hear things like this two courses of thought go through my head. First of all I want to attack, "how dare you be so harsh and judgmental...you have no idea where these kids come from...", and "I remember how I used to feel when my kids were small...why do you have to be with people who will probably hurt you". Both trains of thought are me.

What I did say to this mother was to be glad her daughter was such an obviously loving person so full of God that people who need it desperately are drawn to her. Jesus' version of this when asked why he hung around with known sinners was, "It is not those who are well who need a doctor, but those who are sick". I've been in various stages of wellness and sickness, and I can tell you the people who love me in either case are the normal ones.