Monday, December 5, 2011

No Fudge Today

Day 5:

You spent the weekend whining about how you had essentially grown accustomed to people throwing rose petals at your feet wherever you went, and about how that doesn't happen now because you've moved and people don't know about the rose petal thing.

And at age 47 you somehow still manage to make mountains out of molehills, and call your little tweaks of ego 'pain,' and others' neglect of your pride 'hurtful.'

And then your daughter posts a video of an 8th grade boy on her Facebook. And you remember how much heartache your own son went through during this time in his life. How cruel kids could be. How many times your big little boy lay on your shoulder and sobbed because he had no friends and couldn't figure out why. How he had become the target of neanderthals -- even in places he should have felt safe in and among people he should have felt safe with -- who surely had parents who quite possibly weren't doing the best job of teaching their kids empathy or kindness or even how to connect with their own humanity. His problems weren't those of the boy in the video. But loneliness creates its own culture of commonality, no matter what path brought people there.

And you realize what a selfish, silly, uncharitable woman you've become -- when you know for yourself how much pain is really out there and how your own nonsensical ideas about the way people should treat you are absolutely shameful.

And in your heart you beg your Heavenly Father for forgiveness -- for all of it. For the arrogance and preening self-absorption that blinds you to the loneliness and heartache of the scores of His children that surround you at any given time.

And you thank Him for bringing your child to this place where he finally has friends, where having someone to eat lunch with is cause for family celebration, where he smiles and shares stories and says, "It was awesome" when you ask him about his day.

And you decide that today may not be a fudge day. Today is a day for leaving your comfortable, imaginary world of popularity and 'importance,' and making yourself fully available to any who need whatever you have to share with them.

Tomorrow, we'll feast again. 

But today?  Today, we feed.


Beka said...

Whoa. I don't usually cry this much when I visit your blog. Thanks for this humble reminder, DeNae.

Today, my rose petals go to the feet of this kid who has strength beyond his expectations.


Dixie Mom said...

I ache for the children that we have to send into this hateful world.
My prayers should definitely be redirected.

Becca said...

Don't you want to go to school right now and hug your kids? And a few other kids? That is an overwhelming feeling I have when I'm in the high school. I want to hug the kids who look like they haven't been properly hugged for a good long time.

And I look at some of those kids, and I say inside my head, "Did someone pray for you today?" And sometimes I do it. Just in case.

Kristina P. said...

This video breaks my heart.I just had a conversation with one of my clients, on Friday, who was so proud that she hadn't cut in almost two months. We talked about her scars, both physically and emotionally.

I was bullied a lot in jr high. The only way I can describe it is that it breaks your spirit and will to want to live.

He's a very brave young man.

AS Amber said...

Oh I'm so so so HAPPY Jake is happy up here!!! I love that boy so much.

I can't tell you how much I love having you live up here, now. For so many reasons. It's s blessing for a lot of us. Not just your cute family.

Kazzy said...

As great as fudge is, a day where it is not needed is indeed a great day!

Those mean kids need love so much, but they make themselves hard to love.

These moments of insight (like you have had), are like skylights from Heaven.

tammy said...


Stacy said...

I was a kid like you describe. Knowing that it, in part, made me who I am today doesn't ease the sting of those memories. Glad that your son is doing well.

sues2u2 said...

Crying & grateful for the friends we have. My son has a friend who has been passed around from family member to family member & I found out last night this boy is the designated driver when his uncle goes out. The really sad thing is that I feel like my family is complete when this boy is here but I feel so powerless to bring this boy more fully into our home. Right now I feel all I can do is pray for him.

Thank you so very much for posting this.

Denise said...


L.T. Elliot said...

Oh, DeNae. You have a soul that makes mine sing. Why do you have to make me cry at 11:30 at night? And why, oh why, since you now live in my neck of the woods haven't I kidnapped your wonderful self? I'm so sorry for not being around. Please know that you matter--and always have.