“C” is for Cookie, and…
The letter of the week in E’s 4 year old preschool class this week was C. And to make things even cooler, E’s sharing day was Tuesday. He had been looking forward to his sharing day since the first day of school, and he flexed extremely well when the sharing bag came home with the note that he was to bring things that start with the letter C. That ruled out his most treasured motorcycle, which was atop his very long list of ‘things to bring for sharing.’ Immediately he went for some of his treasured cars. I asked if his teachers would mind if little Calum went to school with him for the day. E responded, “He moves too much.” Ah, yes, so true.
As he started rummaging for his Corvettes and Convertibles, I (unfortunately for him) started my best impersonation of the egyptian opera singer from old school Sesame Street song “C is for Cookie.” Then I had this freaking stuck in my head for about 2 days. (You know you want to watch it!!)
So continuing on my momma nuttiness for the day, anytime I would say something that started with C, I would tell E that he should take that for sharing. (If I was him, I would totally take a bag of Starbucks Verona and say, “This is one of my mom’s most treasured C things.”) He really wasn’t amused at any point in the day with my suggestions. Apparently I’m not cool already.
The big sharing day came and the cars were a hit with the boys, and the girls who shared brought things like cats and a comb and a Curious George doll. So many options for the letter C.
A couple of hours later when school was over, I picked up my special copy of the new Chip Heath & Dan Heath book, “Switch” (not officially released yet.) I can’t quote it as the cover says in all caps bold, “Not for sale. Please do not quote, blog or review until January 1, 2010.” Is this breaking the rules, mentioning that I am reading it and saying what it says on the cover? Hmmm. We’ll see.
Well I’m not going to break the rules any further, just in case. But I will say, that the reason I got the book was because I was enticed when hearing them speak at the Leadership Summit back in August, while I was experiencing the change of losing-turned-transitioning my job. They were talking about one of the most feared words for many: CHANGE. The book itself has a subtitle that goes something like this, “How to change things when change is hard.” So far, it’s quite good but I guess I’ll have to talk about it in a few months.
Last week, I was talking with a friend and I said, “I’d love if 2010 wasn’t a year of hard change.” There’s something in me that feels like we are just getting settled into something here in life, so I’m subconsciously bracing myself for some rock-my-little-world, earth shaking change with a high magnitude. It seems like we can look back over the last few+ years and identify some major changes that we have faced, adapted to, battled and/or conquered. I’m talking 6.2-9.0 on the emotional/mental/spiritual richter scale. Of course, change doesn’t always equal bad. As in one of our 2008 changes was the birth of little C. That’s a good change, but hey, it’s change in a pretty significant way.
I remember that 2004 was the year we bought our house, had our first child, my Grandma died (first grandparent in a season where three of them passed away within 13 months), Nate changed jobs and our basement started flooding on a regular basis. Sparing the details of what kind of significant changes and circumstances have happened in the last 5 years leads me to this whopping cliche, “Change is the only constant.”
Yep, one thing I feel pretty secure in is knowing that change is inevitable. Change can be enormously wonderful. Change can be disturbing and disruptive. Change can rock the boat so hard that I live just clinging to the life preserver sometimes. Change can add up and get heavy. (Yes, I’m being a doofus and smiling at the thought of the four jars of coins we keep around the house for all our extra coins.)
So what will this next year bring? Change, I’m sure. But like I told my friend, I’m just hoping, longing for the good kind. Whatever that may be. I’ll take a cookie at the very least.
An Issue with Extravagance
I got a little mad at God yesterday. I don’t totally feel guilty saying that just yet. I think God can handle it. I feel guilty for what I’m going to say about why I was a bit irked at God.
It’s all about provision, faithfulness and needs being met. These things have all happened recently, so the guilt I feel is the fact that I really have nothing to complain about. Truly, I could and probably should just shut up because in light of everything that happens to people, on a global scale and on a very minute, look around the neighborhood scale, I know that I am a blessed woman.
I just have my moments. My moment yesterday was the fact that in the last week we have spent just enough on our cars to basically wipe out our meager savings account, minus what we set aside monthly to pay for insurance. Here’s the deal. For the last few years (at least), every time there seems to be a little bit of build-up, a little bit of extra cash (remember those stimulus checks or tax refunds?) headed our way, something happens. That something is usually mechanical, with our cars winning out in this competition among inanimate but oh-so-useful objects. Tires, brakes, alternator, exhaust system/mufflers, etc. One time earlier this year, it was our washer. It wouldn’t spin out all the water. It cost $300 for the computer chip to be replaced. Frigginpieceofcrapcomputerchip.
When I am having a good moment, my perspective sounds like this: “Hmmm. So in other words, every time we have an ‘extra’ need, ‘extra’ pressure financially…it is taken care of.” Yes, that is true. Truetruetruetruetrue. So true. In my good moments, I’m deeply grateful for the moment of swiping the card or writing the check and knowing we will still eat well for the next month, and then I move on.
So, in a time where my paycheck has been cut once again recently, we could have actually found ourselves needing to put all our recent car expenditures on the credit card. (Which to my husband, this is basically like surrendering to the plague or some wretched disease. It is not an option as it only brings stress and excruciating consequences of mental anguish at the very least.) But we basically have the exact amount we need to cover everything in savings. Good, right?
Yes, good. But I had a little temper tantrum about it yesterday morning. Something about “just getting by” even if it is by supernatural provision and blessing somehow irritated me. Ugh. This is me in all my honestuglyself-ness.
I sat on my bed and thought, “I’m having a hard time with this because at some point I want to feel like there is an abundance of something. And right now, I want an abundance in our savings account.”
I’m tired of financial stuff like this defining my understanding of abundant life and God’s extravagant love and blessings. I think it has been hanging around in me, coming out in all sorts of mishmashed behaviors and thoughts that aren’t healthy. Yet I have moments where I can list pages and pages in my journal of the miraculous provisions of the last year, and years before that even. Lets talk about humbling, here… it’s truly amazing. I have an a m a z i n g husband, family and community. My mother-in-law was diagnosed with Stage IV non-Hodgkins lymphoma a year ago, and her health and healing is miraculous. There are significant people in my life experiencing remarkable life transformation that are evidence of God’s faithfulness and extravagant love and care for His children. I have found myself professionally and personally in a place of experiencing redemption and restoration in some working relationships, because that is the way God works: with love at His ultimate core.
So why is there something that disconnects when financial issues enter the picture?
It’s almost funny how my last post was about anger. Am I angry with God about the car crap? Am I angry that cars cost money? I’m probably a bit miffed that the money that goes to the old car keeps money from going to a newer car, one from this decade perhaps.
I don’t know if it’s really being angry at God or being angry at myself in a way. I don’t want to notice how cute fall clothes are. I don’t want to inadvertently cyberstalk people I barely (okay don’t at all) know who write about shopping extravaganzas at Anthropologie and Nordstrom and 11 other stores after they had spent the previous weekend picking out interior decor pieces for their newly built home. I don’t want to notice how many great everythings there are at Etsy. I don’t want to fantasize about camera lenses or housecleaning services. I don’t want to feel societal pressure to have a thoroughly coordinated (complete with handmade gift bags to send home with all the kids) birthday party for E next month.
I think my issue with extravagance comes down to what I want my definition of extravagance to be and what I experience with God. Can I live from a place of peace (in my mind and heart) when the stuff of life feels more like we are just getting by? Can I be thankful and content in the blessing of constant provision? Can “constant provision” equate to knowing I am abundantly cared for? (Always. No matter what my mechanic tries to tell me.) And then, can my attitude toward God be one of extravagant love, adoration and thanks returned to Him?
…
Anger
I am sure that if I put a little effort into it, I could have come up with some quip or witty title for this blog post. Instead, I’m opting for a brain-dump-ish type post, a “write this down before I forget” and revisit it later thing.
I’m once again amazed and humbled by my nearly 5 year old son figuring life out. He’s a smart one that little E. Smart and sassy. Smart and defiant. Smart and more smart. Here’s today’s story. This morning I had to run by my office to drop off some receipts. I needed to go to the main office to fill out the paper work, so I decided to pretty much lock the boys in my office while I hustled down the hall to get it done since they were having some ‘listening & obeying’ issues in staying with me. I said, “I need 5 minutes. Play with the trucks, read books, color, sit in the chairs…whatever, just take care of each other and STAY IN HERE.” I just needed 5 minutes, right? While I’m standing at the copier I hear the shrieking and screaming of little C. Shrieking and screaming from the small one means the big one did something. It’s a given. And he did. So, 30 seconds into my 5 minutes I went back down to the office and sure enough, big one is aggravating small one. So, I remind him of his responsibilities and leave again. One minute later, I hear screams again. Oh come on. I walk the 50 feet back to my office and say, “Really?” (Yes, I’m awful and sarcastic to my children sometimes.) Yes, really. So I say, “Okay, I’m taking C with me and you are going to stay here by yourself. I want to leave soon, too, but we can’t if I can’t get this done. You stay here and I’ll be back in 2 minutes.” There were tears and anguish at the unfairness of it all, that brother got to go with me and “WHY CAN’T I COME TOO???” “Well honey, I need to see that you can be a good listener when we come here and so far today you’ve run away from me two times. So, you have to stay here so I know you are safe and not getting into things.” Sure enough, I was back in 2 minutes and we started to gather ourselves to leave.
As toys were being put away I noticed on the floor the little plastic end piece that goes on the cord for my window blinds. Hmmm. “How did this happen?”
“I pulled it off.”
Hmmm. “Why did you pull it off?”
“I was angry.”
“What were you angry about?”
“I was angry because I had to stay in here.”
(I love the honesty in this moment.)
“I understand that, but it still doesn’t mean you can break things, especially things that aren’t yours.”
And here’s the stop-me-in-my-tracks question:
“So what should I do when I’m angry?”
Um, are there any super-parents out there who would like to take over this conversation now? Anyone? Bueller?
I told him that is a really, really great question and that I would think about it because I am so proud of him for asking it, and I think it’s an important question. I told him I know that there are times we have to do things we don’t want to do and it’s not fun, but we are going to keep talking about this anger thing. Oh my gosh, I’m raising boys. Smart boys. Boys that are going to kick my butt, because I suppose I get to think about this as more than an answer or conversation where we talk about it, but I’m going to have to live out my reply. Yowza.
Back from Summer Vacation
I took an unofficial break from blogging for summer vacation. So, pardon, the, punctuation issues! or grammatical mishaps, as I am rusty on the writing front. I didn’t really decide to take a break “officially” – it just happened and in the moments when I thought about writing, I had a smorgasbord of thoughts:
…”It’s midnight, nothing good would come of me staying up late to blog…maybe another time.”
…”Wow. I love being able to read what people are thinking about that resonates with me, or things that have inspired me, or things from witty sports columnits on ESPN that are into the same music I am. Like here at the Mommy Revolution. And here where it’s all quotes from Jonathan Safran Foer. And here. Waitasecond, I have a blog somewhere, right?” (Does that mean I was inspired to write? No, just inspired to share their links.)
…”Hmmm, my poor neglected blog. I have nothing to say.” (Or maybe I was just in the ridiculously addictive habit of updating my Facebook status if I have nothing to say instead.)
The things that really kept me away though are people. Three particular boys especially. And our summer of activities, sickness (yeah, what?) and the ups-and-downs of life that I just didn’t necessarily feel like writing about. I had a few moments when I did feel like some blog-processing could fit in, but overall, I just needed some processing space and “being in the moment” space that doesn’t always happen if I am thinking-borderline-concerned with writing it out for 2 people to read. Ha.
So what did me and the three boys do this summer?
Well, the slightly-abbreviated and glossed over version of our activities includes: serious (quantity & quality) time with sister, two weeks at Cannon Beach (which in itself included numerous hikes, BBQs, a parade, lots of my favorite people time and much more), a phenomenal Coldplay concert, a garage sale with five of my favorite families, keeping up with a 1 year old that never walks – only runs (usually in the opposite direction from a parent-type), extreme heat, eight birthday celebrations, two trips to IKEA, setting the BBQ on fire where the fire doesn’t belong, enjoying a new adult beverage thanks to the “Georgia Aunts” (technically not my aunts, but they don’t go by any other name in my mind), some awesome dates with the husband, three days of the boys at Grandma Terry’s, one Harry Potter movie, six completed books, at least a dozen movies including a Bourne-Binge, lots of watching of sports, trips to the skate park, bike rides, a garden that gave me 16 green peppers and 4 zucchini (huh?) and a very satisfying amount of cherry tomatoes.
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- Looking up on the Tillamook Head trail
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- A date night in Portland
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- Eli on the roof at the beach house
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- Calum the climber usually equals Calum the mess maker
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- Eli & auntie M playing “doggie” on the beach
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- Watching Daddy surf
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- After a family walk
The Little Things
Our prayer time with the ‘prayer team’ was awesome.
In my last post I said something about how God is always reaching for me, even if I am not reaching for Him. I didn’t mean to say it, I was just blog-babbling, with my thoughts going from head to keyboard, unedited. I didn’t realize how true it is, was, and will always be. The prayer time was a demonstration of His reach toward me (towards us, really) – it was amazing, humbling, beautiful, tender and powerful.
First, I want to say that it is such an incredible thing to be part of a church body where people are committed to seeking and listening for God, specifically for other people. Maybe I just haven’t paused to think about the power of intercessory prayer enough. But I usually associate intercessory prayer as something much more private, and therefore, powerful in that particular way. I was humbled that five people (some who are dear friends, some who are more acquaintances) would spend HOURS (which included preparation, not just the actual prayer time together) to come meet with us, listen, ask questions, listen some more and then purposefully seek revelation and truth from God for us. Nothing was for them. They were listening to God to receive something to give it away. There were moments that I truly felt like they were warriors fighting for us. They weren’t fighting for them, for us. It’s still indescribable, even though I have tried a few sentences. It was a gift of service and love that helped me to have a deeper understanding of what service and love is about in the powerful act of prayer.
So one of the things I know I needed, as I even blogged about hours before our prayer time together, was the desire and capacity to see God, have His vision or have a vision FOR Him, in the little things.
Can I just say that God’s faithfulness to respond so swiftly is …
… seen in the way that a smile creeps slowly across Calum’s face, where it starts with a little glimmer in his eyes. Daily I spend hours upon hours with this little thing smiling this sometimes devious, sometimes pure delight, smile up at me. It brings joy just to even envision it right now.
… experienced in the drive from Sherwood to Newberg yesterday morning after an “unsuccessful” yet unimportant outing to Target. The sun was already warm on our skin. I made a kickin’ new playlist that we turned on and r o c k e d out to…it included Eli’s special request of “That’s Not My Name” and some of my new-ish faves. One of those songs is “Maps” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. It rocks. (Literally, I think it’s one of the tracks to play along to on Rock Band or Guitar Hero.) The cool chick singer Karen O belts out the chorus, “They don’t love you like I love you.” Eli and I sang this to each other, rocking out on 99W. The best part? Hours later … sitting at the dining room table, Eli points at me all intense and crafty and says, “They don’t love you like I love you!”
… inspiration that hit early today. After two weeks of NyQuil induced sleep at night, my body has slogged through the morning hours. 8am wake ups have felt like it may as well have been 4am, with a complete and utter sense of being out of it. This morning, the sun crept in through the french door that was open in our bedroom, and I woke up at 6:15am refreshed, despite six hours of sleep. My mind was clear and bottom line is this, I had a moment of creativity and inspiration for something that first of all, had room to come in, and second, to actually dwell and play in my mind. It was nice, the way an unexpected bouquet of flowers or flattering compliment is nice to receive.
I’m savoring and sharing these little big things in the hopes that there are more for all of us in the days ahead.
A Reflection on Humility
Today I heard a definition of humility that I had never heard before. Perhaps the context of the conversation, especially in light of where I am at spiritually, emotionally, etc., is for thinking about another time. (Naptime is about over anyway.) It’s worth pondering.
Humility is “hearing God’s voice and doing what He says.”
Part of the interesting context for me today is that tonight Nate and I are meeting with our church community’s “Spiritual Renewal Team” – a prayer team that takes very seriously the responsibility and gift to specifically seek insight and revelation from God for intercessory purposes. Last night I actually got nervous as I thought about meeting with the group. It’s because I know how dried up I feel. Sure, I’ve been sick with what has felt like the flu for the last week – but my spiritual well being has been off for much longer. It’s really an intimacy with God thing that has been lacking…as in, I haven’t made time with Him a priority. If we could apply the Five Love Languages model to our relationship, I would say that Quality Time has been completely off the radar. Just as in any healthy relationship, lack of something as significant as quality time means the relationship suffers. This is just the plain and simple nutshell version of something that obviously goes much deeper than a blog post in blogland. (And it’s really not to be Debbie Downer, either.)
So here’s the cool thing. Picture a sandwich. Doesn’t matter what kind, as long as there are two pieces of bread. My stuff is the filling of the sandwich, like my ‘empty tank’. And my nervousness to come before a group of people that could call out the reality of the rather dismal state of my internal well-being, my lack of discipline, my ‘lukewarm’ attitude on some things, my struggles with selfish desires…
God is sandwiching that stuff in two thoughts, truths even, to help me to see Him in this process and even in the preparation to hear Him tonight. He is always reaching for me, even when I am not reaching for Him.
This new definition of humility to consider is one part of it. Hearing and obeying…but it starts with hearing.
The second is this random reading from Oswald Chambers (My Utmost…) which I read about an hour after hearing the above mentioned nugget on humility.
“Where there is no revelation, the people cast off restraint. (Proverbs 29:18). … Once we lose sight of God, we begin to be reckless. We cast off certain restraints from activities we know are wrong. We set prayer aside as well and cease having God’s vision in the little things of life. We simply begin to act on our own initiative. If we are eating only out of our own hand, and doing things solely on our initiative without expecting God to come in, we are on a downward path. We have lost the vision. Is our attitude today an attitude that flows from our vision of God? Are we expecting God to do greater things than He has ever done before? Is there a freshness and vitality in our spiritual outlook?”
My attention is piqued. The nervousness is dissipating to anticipation. This is a good thing.
A Very Good Day
It’s a little silly that I haven’t been here for awhile. This morning I noticed a similar trend in my journal, my last three journal entries were March 2nd, April 2nd, and now, today, May 2nd. Hmmm. Just a coincidence. (For all my friends who love LOST as much as I do, if that is even possible, then maybe we could come up with a theory about why those numbers…)
Who, What, Where, When & Why
I haven’t blogged in about forever. I have come, I have written, but I just haven’t hit “publish.” There have been far too many incomplete sentences…
So, in my determination to reemerge in blogland, I figured I would just start with the basics of what life has been about lately…
Back in February, Calum turned 1. The kid is a firecracker and a cuddlebug wrapped wonderfully into one long, lean little body. (93rd percentile, for height. Yeah…wait, what?) Oh, but we had to celebrate belatedly and multiple times, because he had a 102 fever on his birthday, along with an ear infection. Plus Eli had spent the week battling croup, a fever of 104 that lasted 3 days and ear infections in both ears. Ugh. Our first celebration included eating ice cream after watching the GFU girls complete their undefeated regular season with my family. Then we celebrated ‘for real’ with friends, cupcakes, and a treasured Thomas balloon the following weekend…
Calum turns 1! He's happy! He's not! (He's sick.)
Lets see…did I mention that there was sickness? That feels like it has been the “what” of the last couple of months. I have been to the doctor’s office three times and once to urgent care. Fun times! It seems as if every mom I have talked to has been dealing with some sort of persistent, frustrating, isolating sickness with their kids AND themselves. I truly think that there is nothing worse than feeling like staying in bed all day long with drugs, tissues, warm drinks and warm blankets and knowing that your kids actually need all that and then some more comfort and care so it’s just NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN.
This is just sad.
So yes, I have been sick. And the boys were sick. They got prescription medication. I bought more NyQuil, DayQuil, Peppermint Tea and Ibuprofen. Then we started to get better. Then Calum’s cough got worse. Then after the medication was dispensed, Eli complained of another earache and randomly slept one Sunday from 1pm until 8pm, then back to bed at 9pm. (And I missed a concert date with Nate.) Then Eli was fine. Then I got a sinus infection. Then Calum got another 104 fever and another ear infection, in each ear this time. Now more medication. (That comes complete with ‘explosive diaper’ side effects.)
Okay, okay. Done whining.
Lets focus on the positive.
I have been having some wonderful date nights with my husband. He has been lovingly persistent through the course of the last four years of having children about us making date nights a priority. I think the importance of time together, away from the house, away from dishes or diapers or distractions has been something that I haven’t always grasped. Plus, I admit to being the kind of person who longs for ‘just me’ time, so when given the opportunity to get out, sometimes I just want it to be me. Not only does he give me this time, but he also makes a big deal about wanting to hang out with me! It’s amazing. (He still likes me!) I do just want to say to any moms who might be dragging your feet, making excuses, battling with insecurities, or just plain forgetting about spending quality time with your husband: make the time. Even if it is a trip to DQ for the Blizzard of the Month and sitting in a parking lot of the nearest park, just go. And then do it again, soon.
Speaking of dates. It has been a basketball week for us. Nate’s dad bought us NCAA tickets to the first and second round games that have been here in Portland. And to top it off, those incredible George Fox girls are the national champions with an undefeated season. We’ve been to a lot of the home games this year, and spent the last week watching them online in the tournament. It has been fun for our family, fun with our friends and breathed some excitement into our community where sometimes the ‘work’ part of life is discouraging. I love watching team sports (except Tiger and Rafael Nadal) for so many reasons, but especially watching people work together, trusting each other, relying on each other and not only accomplishing something great, but then getting to celebrate together. And I also celebrate knowing that behind every team of players and coaches are spouses, families and friends, who support, encourage and sacrifice. It’s just a nice mix of entertainment and inspiration for my little mind!
Speaking of something else inspiring. The new U2 album, No Line on the Horizon. I know there has been much said about this old band, this newish sound, the publicity stunts, etc. This is one of those things that if you don’t agree with me about, I really don’t care. I love this music. I love Bono’s lyrics. (Added bonus: I like being able to listen to it while I work out. There’s a time and place for classics like “With or Without You” but how can you deny the goodness of “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight”?) Oh those Irish boys make me happy.
Anything else worth sharing?
Not much else at this ridiculously late hour. I’ve been out of my groove in some ways, like blogging or pausing to think and reflect – some of my favorite things to do, but difficult while medicated or sleep-deprived or holding a small child. Yet I once again come to appreciate that I think I’m a pretty blessed woman. I am looking forward to spring, a new season…it is always refreshing to see some new life and bright color emerge after a grayish winter (and stuffy noses and ear infections.)
The “S” Words
Here it goes again, some sort of inter-connectedness in the blogosphere. I write in the middle of a day where I have errands to run, a meal to prepare for part of our small group gathering tonight and two small boys to care for. A busy day, but a good day. And what is the subject for tonight’s small group with three other couples? “Simplicity” – as we have been reading through Richard Foster’s “Celebration of Discipline” and studying each theme through the book and corresponding scripture. And what just popped up as the topic over at The Mommy Revolution? A conversation about a book that focuses on rest, the Sabbath and simplicity. Yes, interesting timing indeed.
So first, where does the idea of a Sabbath come from? Oh that’s right, the Ten Commandments. The commandments that happen to list both observing a Sabbath and not worshiping any other gods (as well as a few other oh-so-important things.) Interestingly, in Exodus 31, it is also where Moses received the instructions for building the Tabernacle. I am inspired by the connection between the theme of worship and this reinforcement of the idea of a necessary rest or Sabbath. Exodus 31: 12-13 says, “Then the LORD said to Moses, “Say to the Israelites, ‘You must observe my Sabbaths. This will be a sign between me and you for the generations to come, so you may know that I am the LORD, who makes you holy.”
I am created and called to worship, to the point that my acts of worship include creating and constructing and doing (just as the Israelites were put to work creating the Tabernacle). But I see two warnings given in the commands about worship, to not worship false gods and to observe a Sabbath. BOTH of those things will glorify God and both of those things will make it so that I know that the Lord is God.
Apparently, I am the one who first needs to rightly acknowledge, believe and act as if God is God and I am not. A day of rest, a day of not doing all the things that I ‘need’ to proudly cross off my to-do list is one of the most significant ways that I can teach myself about the proper ordering when it comes to me and the Creator God of the universe, the Keeper of all space and time. Okay, so I guess I can ease up a bit on my trusty little governing notebook filled with my lists, goals, projects and ideas.
So, observing a Sabbath has ultimately the same effect on my life as the choice and actions of worshiping false gods. For me, in this case, the false god that I am worshiping when I do not observe a day of rest (from the notebook) is ME. Whether it is a control issue, a self-sufficiency issue or an identity issue, all depends on the day and the circumstance, and sometimes it is an unholy mixture of all three. If I am too tightly bound to whatever it is that I need to accomplish and do with my time, I not only find myself exhausted, crabby, unfulfilled and discouraged, but I ultimately do a severe disservice to my children and my husband and any other person who I have a relational impact on. At that point, I am no longer modeling living a life set-apart for God, but I am actually refusing to ‘know’ the Lord the way that He wants me to know Him.
I already have enough control/self-sufficiency/identity issues to work through. This is one significant area where I can make a choice to simplify in action, which in turn helps break through some nasty, unhealthy thought habits. I had a friend tell me once (and that’s all I needed for it to stick in my brain): “We don’t even think of committing murder, so why would we disregard the commandment about resting and taking a Sabbath?” I have thought many times since about this and the power of what I pass on to my kids. I will tell them how bad it is to murder, lust, worship power-money-false gods, but I will live a life of no-rest-all-productivity before them? That’s just not going to work.
So my husband and I choose days to not clean up the toys scattered about the house, to not fret about dinner and eat pancakes, to stay in our pajamas until 3pm, and to step away from the Type A personality habits that otherwise drive our days. This has helped me enormously in the last year after the birth of my second son. These simple outward steps help me overcome the huge mental hurdles that resist such perceived “unproductiveness.”
In stealing from Jim Collins “Good to Great”, sometimes Nate and I will say to each other when frantic discouragement starts to set in, or on days where one of us starts looking about with a bewildered sense of “must do, must do, must do” (think Gollum and his precious):
“So you have a lot on your to-do list. What’s on your NOT to-do list?”
Often times, the first answer will be “I do not need or want to stress and freak out if one or two things that I want to do does not actually get done.” Of course, it is always easier said than done. But, truly it helps in hovering near sanity. (And then it frees me up to impromptu blog posts, too.)
I know that much of the discussion for moms can be about taking care of children and the demands of maintaining a sense of order and well-being for our homes. We all have different standards of what defines chaos, or even survival for that matter. But I think that ultimately, we can all find areas of our life where we can abide by the defined terms for rest. My version of rest is going to look much different than someone who doesn’t have small children in the house, or who is single, or who is living in retirement. But, I just have a hunch that since it is part of God’s original commandments (which were pre-technology, pre-industrial age, pre-television) that He can lead us to a place of rest that fits each of us just right whether it is physical, mental, emotional or spiritual.
Rest:
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1. |
the refreshing quiet or repose of sleep: a good night’s rest. |
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2. |
refreshing ease or inactivity after exertion or labor: to allow an hour for rest. |
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3. |
relief or freedom, esp. from anything that wearies, troubles, or disturbs. |
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4. |
a period or interval of inactivity, repose, solitude, or tranquillity:to go away for a rest. |
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5. |
mental or spiritual calm; tranquillity. |
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6. |
cessation or absence of motion: to bring a machine to rest. |
During December’s Arctic Blast, I had the pleasure of absorbing myself in the book “Eat Pray Love”. I have already tried to convince you to read it, but in case you haven’t taken the hint, I will end by borrowing a page from that book, during a time when the writer, Elizabeth Gilbert is living in Italy.
“(My sister and I) were taught to be dependable, responsible, the top of our classes at school, the most organized, efficient babysitters in town, the very miniature models of our hardworking famer/nurse of a mother, a pair of junior Swiss Army knives, born to multitask. We had a lot of enjoyment in my family, a lot of laughter, but the walls were papered with to-do lists and I never experienced or witnessed idleness, not once in my whole entire life.
Generally speaking, though, Americans have an inability to relax into sheer pleasure. Ours is an entertainment-seeking nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one. Americans spend billions to keep themselves amused from porn to theme parks to wars, but that’s not exactly the same thing as quiet enjoyment. Americans work harder and longer and more stressful hours than anyone in the world today. But as Luca Spaghetti pointed out, we seem to like it. Alarming statistics back this observation up, showing that many Americans feel more happy and fulfilled in their offices than they do in their own homes. Of course, we all inevitably work too hard, then we get burned out and have to spend the whole weekend in our pajamas, eating cereal straight out of the box and staring at the TV in a mild coma (which is the opposite of working, yet, but not exactly the same thing as pleasure). Americans don’t really know how to do nothing. This is the cause of that great sad American stereotype – the overstressed executive who goes on vacation but who cannot relax.
I once asked Luca Spaghetti if Italians on vacation have that same problem. He laughed so hard he almost drove his motorbike into a fountain.”
“Jump Up and Down” Good
I am a passionate person, and I wouldn’t say that I am reserved, but I am also a grown woman who doesn’t usually jump up and down to show my excitement or enthusiasm for something in particular. “Jump up and down good” is my reference point since that is what I see/hear/feel my four year old do quite often to express his complete delight at ________ (insert: approval of a household wrestling match/a trip to the beach/being told he gets to spend the night at Grandma’s house, etc.))
I see it because there is flailing involved. I hear it because squeals and shouts accompany it. I feel it because we have hardwood floors and the place shakes when 35 pounds of boy jump.
So it doesn’t necessarily have to be jumping up and down for everyone, but it’s something like that, some sort of physical, mental, emotional take-over of your whole being that represents you agreeing (in all of those ways) with something else outside of you. For me “jump up and down” good means it’s really, really good. The kind of good that gets me so excited that I want to share it and make the floors shake so you can know that I mean good.
Wow, so that’s a lot of build up, right???
Right.
But see, I’ve had two jump and down good moments in the last 24 hours and they both came from something I read. So since I read them, I can share them, which is what I am dedicating this post to…I guess it’s my way of squealing and shouting “YOU’VE GOT TO READ THIS AND THINK ABOUT THIS AND ISN’T IT PROVOKING AND THOUGHTFUL AND INSPIRING AND AFFIRMING…” and all that kind of stuff. Yes, ALL CAPS because remember, I am jumping up and down.
(Deep breath, exhale….whew.)
Yes. I really like reading and I especially like reading things that stir up my brain and heart simultaneously. For me, this type of convergent inspiration is more rare than I would like it to be. (Cheers to smart people who can say things that need to be said, for starting conversations and for taking time to think about and then articulate some truths really well!)
First one: “Is Motherhood a Calling?” over at The Mommy Revolution.
Second one: “Small Wonders” by Tom Sine over at Leadership Journal.
One last thing. I know that these two articles meant a lot to me because of what I have been spending a great deal of time thinking about as well as writing about lately. As I enter my seventh year of being on staff at our church, I have never been so passionate and ready for something to unleash, some specific conversations to collectively be had, for some bold steps of action and faith to be taken and for some things in our community to be shaken up yet realigned. (And it’s starting, but that’s all for another day’s post.)
So I read the “Small Wonders” article last night (so did my husband) and Nate and I looked at each other with smiles and big eyes and I wanted to jump up and down. It’s inspiring to me when God reminds me that He’s in charge and He’s the one blowing through this place (“this place” being His church, my brain, other people’s brains, other communities, etc…) and I’m excited because I am actually catching some of what He’s saying and doing.
So take that and add to it that today, I shared with one of our pastors my 7 page (10 pt. font, single space except between paragraphs) “Ministry Calling Evaluation” where I was asked to describe the kind of “Call” I have to ministry. It’s a document Nate and I both have been working on (individual papers, though) for the last two months. Heck yeah I talk about being a mom and wife and if a call is to a circumstance/role/vocation or a way of life! So then tonight, I read this post and I had a “jump up and down” kind of moment again.
I don’t expect you to jump and down with me, but that’s the great thing about jump up and down moments. The jumper doesn’t care what anyone else thinks because the jumper is only concerned with the reason for jumping with excitement in the first place.
I hope you have a reason to jump sometime soon. It’s invigorating.
— And here’s a freebie just in case these articles are yawners: I also read the book “Eat Pray Love” (finally) last month. If that doesn’t hit the spot, then I don’t know what else to say. Good luck to you. —
