Longing For Meadows, But Learning to Love the Jungle.

Sitting on the couch, looking through some pages of a birthday book my aunt made with pictures, I have a bittersweet feeling looming over me. As my eyes move over each face, sometimes many faces, different thoughts come to my mind: "I remember when...", "Oh, they look like...", "I wish I could have...", "If only...", etc., etc., etc.

Time is not a friend. I realize that my life has passed me by without the opportunities I wish I could have had, but I know that I am who I am because of that. I can only think, "If only...", for so long, and I have to move on.

Though I cannot have the past, today and tomorrow is laid out in front of me-the path I have yet to walk. I do not want to walk through the jungle of chaos and danger that my parents dragged their children through. I love them, for they did the best they could to get us through that jungle, but we did not leave unscarred by it.

I look at some of the families in my family tree, and I wish my mom and dad could have followed them on their path. Either they walked in lush green meadows, or they chopped their way through their own jungle, clearing a safe path with sweat and love for those who came behind.

I am in the jungle. I chop and chop sometimes, but I get tired and start dragging my own children through the brush. Honestly, I would much rather walk through those meadows, but I don't know how to get there. Maybe we all walk through the jungle, but some of us do a better job at hewing out a clear path for those we love so they can walk in peace as they grow before they reach their own jungle.

Whatever the case, I don't want my kids to come out terribly scarred. They may have a few scrapes here and there, be don't we all? That's life.

Looking at those pictures, I wonder how you did it, or are doing it. I feel like that will never be me. Or maybe I am just reading too far into the happiness that seems to come from you all. We did not have that growing up-that sense of security, belonging, and love that seems to ooze from the lives of some of those in our rather large family. I too realize, though, that others may have been dragged through the jungle just like me, and maybe you know what I mean.

In the end, though I cannot go back and have something I missed, I want to move forward and give that to MY family. I want my kids to feel a part of this great big wonderful thing called the Rehfeldts, and also the smaller branch off of that tree, the Molanders.

Sometimes, no matter how hard I try to shut out the past, to let go of the hurts and to move on to the life I want for my own family, my heart finds some reason not to. But, the sweet part is being able to hold on to so many wonderful things in my life, in our family, and among friends. My prayer every day, every moment, is that I remember all of those good things from God, and forget the scars. Though scars do not dissappear, they do fade, and some people come to forget they have them, even the ones that are clearly seen. I guess, that only comes when they accept the fact that they are scarred.

So, I am scarred, but I am blessed. I am thankful for the blessings I have been showered with in my life, and I hope you are too! You can't be part of the Rehfeldt family and not feel at least a little blessed, can you?