Don't Break Ghee

I know many of you will judge me based on what I'm about to confess, but honestly ... I don't care. God knows I've been judged for far more personal and life-changing confessions than the one I'm about to share ... somehow I managed to survive those judgments, so I'm not too worried about any condemnation that is sure to come this time around. So here it is ... hate me if you must ... I had never set foot inside of an Ikea store until three days ago. Man, it feels so good to finally say those words out loud (or type them out loud, as the case may be) ... it's like I've had a million pounds lifted off of my shoulders. Even when the first Ikea store opened in Kansas City last year, I remained strong and didn't succumb to peer pressure to finally join the ranks of loyal and faithful Ikea shoppers. But ... Coraline had been cooped up in the house for the last week because she, her parents and her sister have been sick, and my sweet granddaughter desperately needed a warm, indoor, open space where she could burn off some of her feeling better energy. Yep ... that's right ... I made my first-ever visit to Ikea because that's where my granddaughter said she wanted to go, and I bear no shame or guilt whatsoever in that admission.

I've heard tons of things about Ikea, and many of them revolved around how massively huge the store is ... that's an understatement for sure, it's like Costco on steroids. For the first hour or so, Coraline ran and jumped and played like a wild woman ... she was thrilled to not only be out of the house but to be feeling better as well. But after about an hour, she got tired and wanted me to hold her as we walked through the store ... through the massively huge store. I actually surprised myself by how long I was able to carry her perched upon my hip before I got tired, but my suggestion to Coraline that she get down and walk for a while was met with a resounding, "No, Ghee, no!!" However, my suggestion to my sweet granddaughter that she ride on my shoulders was met with a resounding, "Yes, Ghee ... I will wide on your shoulders!" I'm not sure why, but there's just something extra sweet about a little kid riding on my shoulders ... I always loved it when my own kiddos did it, and, perhaps because our visits are too few and far between, I love it even more when my sweet Coraline does it and I'm already looking forward to the day when Amelie is big enough to ride on my shoulders as well.

Yesterday it was almost "warm" here in Canada ... and by warm I mean we were able to walk to the train to meet Matt when he came home from work. By warm I also mean that we were able to make said walk with regular clothing and coats and hats and gloves without four layers of Under Armour underneath. Coraline was rather ... ummm ... well ... she was rather cranky when she woke up from her nap yesterday and suffice it to say she was a wee bit less than cooperative when my daughter-in-law instructed her to get her gear on. By the time we were out the door and headed toward the train, an epic 3-year-old kid vs. mom battle had transpired and Coraline was grumpier than a cat in a field full of dogs. She didn't want to hold my hand ... she didn't want to wear her hat ... she didn't want to talk ... she didn't want to walk on the sidewalk ... she didn't want to walk in the snow ... all she wanted to do was whine and fuss about everything. She finally agreed to let me hold her, but with all of our gear on, I tired out in a hurry and asked her to ride on my shoulders instead ... bad, bad, bad idea. Suffice it to say she walked the rest of the way by herself ... her own angry, stomping, fussing, whining, pouting, grumpy little self ... until the little stinker saw her dad and then she suddenly became all smiles and the happiest little girl in the world.

Whenever I get tired when I'm carrying her or if she decides to do a full body slam on my lower back when we're wrestling, Becca always says, "Coraline! Be gentle ... don't break Ghee ... we need her." It seems that all my claims of my having super special Ghee immunity to the sickness my Canadian kiddos had when I arrived last week are now trying super hard to prove me wrong. I haven't felt too great for the last couple of days ... so far, it's just a sore throat, achy ear and a bit of congestion, and I'm summoning every ounce of positive thinking I possess to assure myself that I'll be completely back to normal in a day or two. I have to feel better ... it's snowing today and Coraline is feeling much better and we've got some serious sledding to do. I had a hard time getting to sleep last night partly because my throat was hurting and partly because Becca's words kept pounding in my head ... "Don't break Ghee ... we need her." 

As I tossed and turned in the darkness last night wishing my throat would stop burning, I thought about the times in my life when I've been broken ... times when my heart was broken ... times when my spirit was broken ... times when my will to go on was broken. I'm here to tell you this old Ghee has been broken more than a few times during my lifetime, and that's especially true of the last few years for sure. I often say that the biggest lessons in life come through the most unexpected words at the most unexpected times in the most unexpected places ... like last night when it hit me that the most devastating brokenness of all is that of feeling unneeded, unwanted and unnecessary. I've come to the conclusion that people can survive just about anything as long as they feel they are needed, wanted and necessary ... as long as they feel they are loved ... it's when they feel they aren't that they give up. I can't begin to tell you how many messages I receive that all say the same thing ... "No one needs me ... no one wants me ... no one notices if I'm present or not."

Do you ever think about whether you've broken someone? Whether your words have hurt someone? Whether your actions have said someone isn't worthy or needed or cared for or wanted? Do people know how much you need them? Think maybe you should tell them?

 "Don't break Ghee ... we need her."