Must. Stop. Buying. Presents. Formykids.

 

Graph of Christmas excitement

A few years before I started my parenting journey, my sister had a sweet little girl named Lucy (who is now 5). At Christmas my sister would send out a really long, detailed Christmas list for Lucy to the family, with online links to specific toys. My sister has always been more into the traditions of Christmas than the gifts, so I was always a little surprised by the lists that came out every year. During this same time I was seeing parents on black Friday getting to stores at 5am (these were the days before that madness creeped into Thanksgiving) to buy the hottest toys for their kids, waiting in lines a mile long with a dedication that I just didn’t understand. I saw parents, parents that I knew, spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars on their kids for Christmas.

At the time I didn’t really know what the deal was, but maybe that these people were getting caught up in what they saw around them and assumed was normal. But I was so wrong. Because, do you know what I think the root of it is?

Love.

Seriously, I believe that.

I will admit that as humans sometimes our efforts at showing love are a little misguided. And sometimes love makes people crazy and do weird things. Well folks, this is one of those things. My sister’s Christmas list for Lucy wasn’t about anything but seeing Lucy’s face light up on Christmas morning, because a parent gets so much joy in delighting their children. It was about having just the right thing under the tree, the thing that Lucy would hold and play with and know, without any doubt, that the person who gave it to her loves her very much. Most of the parents who go a little crazy buying toys for their kids are doing it because they love the heck out of those little people. Love them so much that they want to get them the best gift they can, the very very best.

You know, sometimes parents feel like we are failing our kids. A lot of the time we don’t know what we’re doing and sometimes we worry that our kids are suffering because of it. But a gift can say “I know you and I love you, and I may mess up a lot…but I NAILED it for Christmas, am I right?!” For some of us, it’s a chance to show our kids in a tangible way that they are the most important things in our lives and that we love them more than our words or our hugs can say. How much do I love you? I love you (NEW BIKE) much! I love you (RAPUNZEL DRESS) much! I love you (TRAMPOLINE) much!

It’s not necessary. And we know it. We could give our kids nothing for Christmas and we could still show them in a million other ways that we love them. Love does not equal stuff, but don’t you feel special when a friend gives you just the right little gift? Doesn’t it make you feel known and loved? That is the best feeling. That you are known, known so well, and even though that person knows your faults and failings they still love you so much. A gift can say, hey I accept you. Totally. And it makes me happy to make you happy.

Chad lost his job right before Jude was born, and I was in the middle of gathering things for the new baby. Pretty much every single baby item I owned was pink and covered in flowers, so we wanted to buy a few things for the boy that was headed our way. I felt so helpless, in the midst of the loss of a job and an income and about to have a baby. Babies cost money, people. So I was trying my best to find things either cheaply or for free, meanwhile the nesting instincts were flowing strong in my veins. I was stressing out.

Not much later I got an email from an old friend, offering me a few of her cloth diapers. Not only were they the exact brand I wanted, but they were in the right sizes and colors. God was saying to me: I love you (NEW DIAPERS) much! A few weeks earlier we had found a practically brand new infant car seat and base by a dumpster. A great, safe brand that seemed like it had been in a babysitter’s car and had been used maybe once. God again: I love you (NEW CAR SEAT) much! He did this again and again for me: a rocking chair, a baby sling, a crib, a crib bumper, buckets of clothes, and so much more. I did not ask for any of it, it just came to me. The blessings continued after Jude was born, and for all of this past year (which was a tough one). I felt known and loved. So loved. He was telling me that even though my life was crumbling apart around me, I care about you. I, the God of the Universe, love you (FREE TRIP) much! I love you (NEW COAT) much! I love you (SHOES FOR YOUR KIDS) much!

Those gifts, even though they were just small things, were huge to me. They were a way that I could see with my eyes that my God loves me and that the people around me love me. I could feel it with my hands. My heart was so hurt that I was having trouble feeling God’s love there, so He made it so that I could feel it in other ways. Simple ways that said I care. They care. We all care.  

I know that God gets GREAT joy from blessing us, providing for us, and giving us gifts. Just like parents get so excited about Christmas, because they get to shower their children with presents. Is it any wonder that we delight in the giving? That sometimes we go a little crazy about it? That we have a harder time falling asleep on Christmas Eve than our kids do? The excitement that we feel, the deep joy that we get from giving gifts to our kids is a hint, a taste of the joy that God gets from giving to us. I think that one of the greatest lessons from being a parent is that God loves us more than we love our kids. That idea blows my mind.

So, yes, sometimes parents go overboard on Christmas. We might spend too much money or get lost in the madness of Christmas shopping. We might seem like we just want, want, want. And maybe sometimes we do need a reality check, and to be reminded that presents aren’t the only part of what makes Christmas so special. I know plenty of parents who buy their kids very little for Christmas, and I am so impressed by them. I honestly wish I could be more like that. But for people like me who have to reign themselves in all day every day or they would buy every single Tangled-related item for their two three year old girls? Well, I hope you can see my craziness and not judge it. Because truly, it’s all in an effort to make a deep, beautiful love a little more visible.

A Reflection on Breakfast

The clock strikes mid-morning

The beast rises within your bowels

A beast of old coffee and digestion

Screaming its demands and wrenching your gut

The beast, named Hunger, has suddenly, surprisingly

Taken control of your body

And so you hunt, to quiet it

 

Turning corners, reaching the kitchen

You pause lightly, eyes scanning for sustenance

Coming to rest on the remains of the a.m. feast

Waffles, carefully cut

Sitting forgotten in haphazard piles on tiny plates

Floating in stagnant pools of maple syrup

(Grade B)

 

You take the plates, intent only on cleaning up

Drawing your will power to the surface, to abstain

To wait for a healthier meal

Perhaps I’ll make a salad, your brain thinks

A decoy thought, a distraction

As your fingers have already begun to bring the food

(Sweet, cold, dense morsels) to your lips

“Leggo the eggo” you think, with half a heart

Since you are almost done

 

Thirteen seconds, three plates cleared

The beast is fulfilled

And you, you are

A parent.

For the first-time, first-year mamas: A little bit of truth

None of your mom friends wanted to tell you the hard truth about the first year while you were pregnant. You were so adorable and full of optimism and ideals that we just couldn’t bring ourselves to even begin to warn you about what you had ahead. Plus, we know that you wouldn’t be able to understand what we were talking about until you lived it yourself, so why even try? It also would be sort of mean: Oh, you’re a month away from your due date! Well, let me tell you how much this is going to suck. Plus, maybe your story would be different. Maybe you would be one of the lucky ones and your baby would sleep and eat like a charm, and not be a crier. Those babies exist (I think), but usually they aren’t the firstborn it seems, and we don’t really believe those stories anyway.

But now, it’s time for some truth. Bad days happen and when they happen, you may feel bad about how you feel. Well, don’t worry. We’ve all been there before.

The goal of writing this is so you know that we know how you feel. Sometimes it’s hard to say these things out loud, but they are just truths. We know you don’t want to complain, but we won’t judge you if you do. So, have some peace in knowing that you aren’t alone. You never have been.

Also, this list is compiled from my experience of my first year at home, and I had twins. My life was CRAZY sometimes, and you may not be able to relate to any of this. Your baby may be perfect and calm and awesome and take long naps and eat well and be happy to play by itself and love tummy time. If so, knock on every wooden surface you can find and pray prayers of thanksgiving to Jesus and say a dozen Hail Marys, and throw in a rain dance or something for good measure.

1. “OH MY GOD THIS IS HARD. Just kidding, it’s easy! NEVER MIND, IT’S HARD AGAIN SAVE ME!!!!!!!!”- Has there ever been a roller coaster ride like mothering a baby for the first time? One day everything is smiles and coos and perfect feedings and naps, and you. are. the best mom ever. You know it in your bones, “I was MADE for this. I knew I would be awesome!” And then the next day the poop hits the fan (hopefully not literally) and you sink into a hole of self-doubt and ask yourself some scary questions, like “Why did we do this?” “Maybe I should have chosen adoption” “How did I think I was cut out for this?” But then, the next day you’re back on top of the world. Or, rather, the laundry pile. This all just comes with the territory.

2. Your temper may scare you- You think you’re chill and under control? Have a baby or two, and you’ll learn A LOT about how you really handle stress. You might yell or scream or throw stuff (hopefully not your baby, and hopefully nothing at your baby) and think where did this rage come from? How am I so out of control? Patience in not a gift, nor is something you just pick up and put on like your favorite sweatshirt with baby spit-up on the shoulder. Patience is an art form. Patience requires careful practice, determination to not quit when you mess up, and a realization that you will get better at it over time. First year art students don’t expect themselves to be creating masterpieces right away, they know that they have a lot of practicing to do to get there. So do you with your patience. I’m assuming we’re going to need all of this practice for the teenage years.

3. Sometimes, you may just want it all to stop- I remember thinking, a whole bunch of times, that I wanted time to stop around me for a day or two. I wanted to be able to sleep, or read a book, or just let my stress drip away slowly rather than having to conquer it and I didn’t want to have to arrange for a babysitter to do this. Because then there would be bottles to prepare and a schedule to write out and money to exchange hands and worry to consume my mind the whole time I was gone. I needed a break from the noise, the thinking ahead, the being “on” all of the time, the 45 second showers during naptime, and the crying. OH, the crying. I had two babies at once so I got an extra special dose of baby tears during my first year, but still, nothing puts a mom over the edge like crying. Is it just me or can a dad more easily say to himself: this is just an annoying noise that at some point will stop. But it seems like a mom is more likely to go through this:

- Oh NO! Baby is crying! Something is wrong!

- I checked everything, and nothing seems wrong! It’s something secret that I can’t figure out!

- I’m terrible! Why can’t I stop this! Why am I not good enough for you? I’m a  faiiiiiluuuuuuuure!!!! (she may or may not start crying along with baby at this point)

- Dear Jesus, I will do pretty much anything in exchange for the baby to stop crying. I’ll stop eating donuts and watching reality tv and WHATEVER YOU WANT

And eventually you may get to this point:

- All right kid. You’re gonna need to stop that right now. SOMEONE FIND ME THE PACIFIER ALREADY.

4- You will discover that mama love for her baby…hurts- It hurts because you weep for joy over that little face, and you weep for sorrow that one day it will leave you. You weep because you can’t believe this blessing is yours. You weep for the mamas who lose their babies. You weep for the babies who lose their mamas. You weep over the smiles that you know are meant just for you. You weep because you are their everything. You weep because sometimes, they are your everything. You weep when you watch CSI and there was a baby or child in danger. Your heart sometimes wants to explode with love at the weirdest moments, like when they’re just sitting in your lap and you feel their downy hair on your cheek. It’s all lovely and painful and you realize that you will never, ever look at the world (or yourself) in the same way. You are broken now, because you know that you would do anything, at any moment, for that baby. You have a weakness, an Achilles heal if you will. You would kill for that baby. And, without question, you would die for it.

5- You sometimes feel all alone- No one can feel what you feel, no one can understand how frustrating your day was (unless they are a mama going through exactly what you’re going through right now). Because just like childbirth, it’s easy to forget how hard the first year was. As soon as you try to put into words what you’re dealing with you realize it doesn’t sound hard at all. So the baby skipped his nap, so what? To your mom or your partner it just doesn’t sound like a big deal, but they can understand that it must have been a little frustrating. But to you, this may have been what you were looking forward to for HOURS to climb back from the edge of sanity. You needed it so much, and without a little break you may just completely lose it. You may have been planning on showering for the first time in days, or sitting down and responding to some emails (finally!), or just closing your eyes and laying on your couch in quiet, and letting that quiet travel through your bones and calm your nerves and remind you who you are. You are a mama who loves her baby so much, you are you, not a crazy person who minutes before may have briefly considered jumping in the car and running away from this crazy day.

But, hey, here’s Truth #6- You are a person doing an INCREDIBLY important thing.

And an incredibly difficult thing, at times.

And all of us mamas who were recently in your shoes, we applaud you. We know what you’re going through, and we are proud of you. Sometimes you can’t believe how awesome life is and lucky you are, and sometimes you can hardly put one foot in front of the other to trudge on until bedtime. Even though our kids may be older than yours and life is easier in a lot of ways, we still sometimes feel that way. All of us, working moms and stay at home moms, (and dads too!) we are just all working so hard to raise happy, lovely little people to grow up to bless each other and to create a world more full of love and joy. So, go us J

Raleigh Christmas Music Round-Up

Around this time of year in college I was usually rehearsing for Christmas concerts, performing in Christmas concerts, going to Christmas concerts, and studying for finals and being overall incredibly stressed out. BUT the concerts part was great and there was an excellent show to see nearly every day. I miss it, honestly. So this year I decided that I was going to find out about Raleigh has to offer in the holiday music department, and my goodness does it have a lot going on. This list is probably just a small portion of all of the Christmas concerts happening this holiday season, but I hope that you can find something to enjoy. Take your friends, your kids, your spouse, and be adventurous! Some are expensive (but probably worth it), a lot are free, and some are even geared towards kids. Take a chance, see a show, and make a memory! No one ever walks away from a Christmas concert in a bad mood.

And PLEASE, if you know of something good thats going on that I don't know about, tell me! I'll add it to the list.

Friday, November 29

·         Holiday Pops with the NC Symphony and Capital City Girls Choir at 7:30pm Meymandi Concert Hall – David Crabtree narrates. If you have tons of money to blow this Christmas season, then this is the show for you! Tickets start at around $45. It’s also on the 30^th at 3:00.

Sunday, December 1

·         Raleigh Beer and Hymns, Advent sing-a-long - 7:30pm at Tir Na Nog (free) This is an old tradition being brought back, and it sounds like pretty much the most fun thing I’ve ever heard of. Make new friends, drink good beer, and sing some amazing music to start out this lovely season of advent.

·         Holiday Festival of Music and Art- Benson Memorial United Methodist Church 4:00pm Holiday Festival begins at 4:00 pm with Art available for preview and sale. Christmas Concert of Sacred and Secular music presented by Benson Chancel Choir and Raleigh Flute Choir Trio will begin at 5:00 pm. Dinner available at 5:45 pm and continuation of Art Sale -- all media of arts, crafts, jewelry follows dinner. Proceeds from art sales to benefit Angel Tree Ministry. Free

 

Thursday, December 5

 

·         Advent Service of Lessons and Carols at Duke Chapel

Choral Vespers is held on Thursday evenings at 5:30 p.m. This 30-40 minute candlelight service consists of scripture readings, prayers, and sacred music. The Duke Vespers Ensemble leads the choral portion of the service.

 

Friday, December 6

·         NC Symphony and Master Chorale- Bach’s Oratorio 8pm @ Meymandi (this one is going to be good, you guys!) Tickets start at $31 (what is WITH the $10 processing fees when you buy a ticket online? I can process that myself at home with my printer, you feel me?! Makes me lose faith in humanity. So I shall listen to beautiful choral music to restore that faith.)  

·         Duke Chapel Choir “Messiah” (80^th year!) at 7:30 ($20, or $5 for students)

·         A Bluegrass Christmas Concert- at Quail Ridge Books, 7:30pm, featuring Nixon, Blevins, and Gage who I think just came out with a new Christmas album. I have no idea who they are but HEY, it’s free and its bluegrass! Win Win!

 

 

Saturday, December 7

·         Bayleaf Baptist Christmas Musical 7-8pm (free)

·         Duke Chapel Choir “Messiah” (80^th year!) at 2:00 ($20, or $5 for students)

·         NC Symphony and Master Chorale- Bach’s Oratorio 8pm @ Meymandi

·         William Peace University Singers- Kenan Hall at Peace, 5:15pm, kids are welcome! ($5-$10)

 

Sunday, December 8  

·         North Raleigh United Methodist Church Christmas Cantata 8:30am and 11:15 (free)

·         Bayleaf Baptist Christmas Musical 7-8pm (free)

·         Duke Chapel Choir “Messiah” (80^th year!) at 3:00 ($20, or $5 for students)

·         Cary Community Choir “Messiah” 7:30pm at Kirk of Kildaire Presbyterian Church (free I think) Want to sing Messiah with them? Just attend 2 of their 3 rehearsals! Google it, because that would be rad.

·         Durham Community Chorale Holiday Concert 3:30 at Temple Baptist Church (free?)

·         Appalachian Winter/Hanging of the Greens at Wake Forest Baptist Church 6:30pm- Sacred harp tunes, shaker hymns and Appalachian melodies featuring the choirs of the church and a guest Appalachian instrumental consort. Free. I’m totes going to this.

·         The Oakwood Waits Christmas Concert- at Pullen Memorial Baptist Church, 7:30pm, free!! (donations go to the Hope Center) This is a mid-sized a capella group (complete with Dickens-era costumes) that has been a Raleigh staple for 30 years.

·         Christ Baptist Church Christmas Concert- at 6:00pm, I’m gathering from the website that this is a big church? With lots of choirs and an orchestra! Free

·         The Raleigh Concert Band Holiday Show- 2:00pm- this isn’t choral as far as I can tell, but sounds like it will be great nonetheless! At the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Raleigh, $5

 

Tuesday, December 10

·         NC Master Chorale “Joy of the Season” 7:30pm at Meymandi

·         Christmas Caroling at Quail Ridge Books and Music (3522 Wade Avenue) from 5:30-6:30pm. Shopping at Whole Foods? Head down to the bookstore at the other end of the shopping center and sing with some strangers! Or if there is a designated group of people singing and they’re in costume or you can tell they’ve been rehearsing together, you probably shouldn’t sing with them. I’m not sure which situation this is going to be. Either way it can’t hurt to show up and enjoy some music.

 

Friday, December 13

·         Providence Baptist “Your Favorite Christmas” 7pm (free)

·         Concert Singers of Cary “Holiday Pops” at Cary Arts Center 8pm ($18-20)

·         Voices Choir “The Sounds of Christmas” 8pm at Hill Hall Auditorium UNC Chapel Hill ($20)

Saturday, December 14

·         Providence Baptist “Your Favorite Christmas” 6pm (free)

Birthday Party for Jesus- while you watch the show, your kids (birth-5^th grade) will get to have a fun time, with activities and snacks, learning all about how Christmas is Jesus’ birthday

·         Voices Choir “The Sounds of Christmas” 3pm at Hill Hall Auditorium UNC Chapel Hill ($20)

·         Concert Singers of Cary “Holiday Pops” at Cary Arts Center 3pm and 8pm ($18-20)

·         Choral Society of Durham “Tippett: A Child of Our Time” (with African-American Christmas spirituals) at Duke Chapel 8pm ($20)  this concert sounds like it’s going to be the bomb, google this for more info but I’m pretty sure the composer is amazing

·         Concert Dancers of Raleigh present Twas the Night Before Christmas- 4:00pm at Jones Auditorium at Meredith, “Concert Dancers of Raleigh invites "children of all ages" to this wonderfully choreographed ballet!” One hour long, $5-$10. This is definitely geared towards families with kids and sounds promising for my little ones. Not Jude, though. He would escape from my lap and run onstage and push the dancers over. And laugh. So, who’s babysitting?

·         Triangle Brass Band- at Wake Forest Baptist Church 7pm- The Triangle Brass Band is a British style brass band comprised of the finest brass and percussion players from the greater RTP area. $5-$12.  You can find out how to buy tickets online at www.virginiatull.com . This is a very popular show and I saw on one website that they had added a show time but could never find the details, so you may want to look into that if this time/day doesn’t work.

Sunday, December 15

·         Providence Baptist “Your Favorite Christmas” 2:30 and 6pm (free)

·         Greystone Baptist Christmas Cantata- 6pm (I think free, I went last year and it was really quite good)

·         Capital City Girls Choir holiday concert, 3pm at Meredith College’s Jones Auditorium  $10

·         Hillyer Community Choir Christmas Concert- at Hillyer Memorial Christian Church at 4:00pm with chorus and orchestra performing Mozart's Credo Mass and Craig Courtney's "A Musicological Journey through the Twelve Days of Christmas" (free)

Sunday, December 15th, 2013 at 4:00pm

·         Millennium Singers (one of the Raleigh Boy Choir choirs) at the Page-Walker Museum in Cary, 4:00pm. Not sure of cost.

·         Choral Society of Durham “Tippett: A Child of Our Time” (with African-American Christmas spirituals) at Duke Chapel 3pm ($20) see previous note about this, I think it’s going to be really great

 

 

Friday, December 20

·         NC Symphony “Cirque de la Symphony” 8pm at Meymandi. Technically this isn’t choral, but it’s basically circus meets symphony which sounds pretty amaaaaazing.

·         Raleigh Boy Choir- Carols of Christmas, 7:30 ($15 for adults) at Hayes Barton Baptist Church, 1800 Glenwood Ave. If you have never heard a GOOD boy choir in person, do yourself a favor and go to this concert.

 

Saturday, December 21

·         NC Symphony “Cirque de la Symphony” 8pm at Meymandi

·         Trilogy at the Pittsboro Roadhouse and General Store- at 8pm, this is a jazz trio doing a special Christmas show which is free. It is in Pittsboro though. Which sounds far away.  

 

To find out more info, look for more concerts, and read about choirs that you may want to join go to raleighsings.org

Feeling All The Feelings

Oh, world. I haven’t written many blog posts lately but I have been reading some, and honestly there are too many out there to even get a handle on what is going on in the blog world. But here is apparently what I missed an opportunity to write about and a little teaser of what I would written if life didn’t have such a pesky habit of getting in my way all of the time:

1. Syria- don’t do it, Obama!

2. Miley Cyrus- she’s a 20 year old and in pop music, why is the way she acts surprising?

3. I don’t remember much else, but that’s how life goes now, am I right? Nothing lasts very long, we seem to be getting over things quicker because there is more to see, more to talk about. Something more interesting is just around the corner so let’s keep checking Facebook to make sure we aren’t out of the loop. And honestly if you take a few weeks off from the interwebz, you miss a lot.

Everything is so fast paced that hot new topics are quickly yesterday’s news. But despite the whirlwind of our world today (that I honestly can’t keep up with, it totally stresses me out), human nature has not sped up. Here’s what I’m talking about: pain. Just because we stop talking about a horrific tragedy two weeks later, the people who suffered are still suffering. They may suffer for years. I am still crying for the people in Syria who lost the people they love to the gas attacks, I still have those images at the front of my mind. Those mothers who watched their children die, I am still crying for them. The news has moved onto the more exciting topic of war with Syria, but I am feeling their loss and there is nothing exciting to me about taking an action that may result in other people feeling this loss.  

Because I know that long after people stop thinking about how much pain you’re in, you may still be feeling it every single day. When people ask you how you’re doing, you answer “Fine” because you feel like you have to, you feel embarrassed that whatever was hurting a few months or years ago still hurts. That you are carrying your loss or your hurts or your struggles with you, and you have not had complete healing yet. You are not free from your pain right now, and maybe you feel like you never will be. Don’t you wish you could wear a sign around your neck like in this blog post? Oh I love this idea so much. It is so hard to say the words, to declare how you are struggling, but it would probably be easier to wear a sign just flat-out declaring what you are going through. Sure, everyone would know your business, but wouldn’t it be freeing? You don’t want pity, I know that, but you do want compassion. You want to not be alone because you aren’t sure how much more of this crap life you can take when you feel so much weight on your soul and no one seems to want to help you carry the load.

When you are so burdened, it is nearly impossible to not see everyone else as living a perfect life. On a small scale this is like when I was in my last two weeks of pregnancy with Jude and I was miserable, I couldn’t help but see everyone who was not pregnant and say to myself, “It’s not fair! Look how not pregnant they are! She is wearing jeans with an actual button and I’m going to spend the rest of my life in spaaaaaaaaaandeeeeeeex!” But friends, if you only knew. People may criticize Facebook for being a place where people carefully craft their online lives to have the clear message about how happy and carefree their real lives are, but the truth is that no one wants to read about your sadness on Facebook. People want you to entertain them and be happy because they went there in the first place to escape their own struggles. You see vacation photos and new house pictures, you see people with their loved ones and funny stories that depict a carefree life of joy when what you are experiencing is the exact opposite. So, you either post about your pain or you pretend it isn’t there. Sure, one or two posts are fine, but after that you may get blocked from the newsfeed. Pain makes us uncomfortable, especially when we have convinced ourselves that there is nothing we can do to help that person. And also, hasn’t it been like six months since whatever they’re still upset about happened? I mean geez, can’t they move on? Look at this pic of what I made for dinner!

Like you have a choice. Wouldn’t you love to move on, just pick yourself up by your bootstraps and get over it already? Wouldn’t you love to just change your circumstances so you can stop feeling like just the existence of your struggles is a burden to the people around you? Just get that job already, get into that school, get married, repair your broken relationship, get healed? Christians seem to be especially bad about this because in some circles there is a stigma about experiencing long-term struggles. Christians have the Great Healer, the Physician, the Creator of the universe, so why don’t you go ahead and use Him to heal you and come to church with smiles next week, m’kay? You don’t know how you’ll pay your mortgage this month? Give it God, Honey. Your kid is going to die unless they get that transplant that you’ve been praying for that seems like it might never come? All things work together for the good of those who serve Him, sister. Your mom has early-onset Alzheimer’s and you can’t afford care for her and you have four small children and no siblings to help? Well, God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.

I can’t tell you how many times people are trying to encourage me and give me those kinds of answers, those platitudes. So much so that I’ve stopped talking about my pain. If you are going to try and shut me up with some Christianese, I would rather just not be honest with you. It is not helpful to try to “encourage” someone with an over-used Bible verse. There may be truth in it, but friends, sometimes the hurting can’t see through their tears enough to grasp the truth in some Bible verse that has been used to keep them quiet in the past. It may have been encouraging to you when you went through your struggle, but the only thing that always helps is love. Love listens, allows the pain to be there, and lets itself get uncomfortable. Love brings a meal when they aren’t sure if the people they are giving it to even want it, love leaves a gift card in the mailbox, love asks how people are doing not in passing, but sits and waits with every intention of listening for the real answer. Love says with its gestures and heart, it’s okay to tell me the truth, I want to help you carry this burden. Love keeps calling and keeps emailing just to check in even though they don’t get a response and are afraid they may be pestering, but love doesn’t need anything in return anyway. Love brings a box of diapers or groceries without even asking, love gives of its time and its comfort and lets go of the fear of rejection. Love realizes that it’s better to annoy a hurting person by relentlessly being there to help than to let itself off the hook by saying well it’s been a year, they’re probably doing ok.

I am part of a group called Greifshare and I go once a week to gather with other people experiencing loss, and we talk through our pain together. This post was actually inspired not just by my own experiences but by listening to the pain of the precious people in my group. Sometimes the primary pain, the loss, seems secondary to the pain of going through it alone. Of being expected to get over it, to move on, or to be happy. Of being spoken to like a child, of being forgotten, of feeling the frustration that they should be over it by now but they are nowhere close. Of their faith being judged because they are sad and have been for months, because healing is slow.

It doesn’t matter how insignificant you feel that your pain is compared to others. Maybe your uncle died years ago and you still feel waves of hurt and loss, and you know people are judging you because he was just your uncle, right? Or you are still keenly feeling the loss of a good job (it was just a job, right?), or your grandmother who died (she was old, right?, or you have an unseen illness that affects you daily (it’s just depression, right? Aren’t there pills for that?), or a miscarriage (it was only 8 weeks, right?. People put down our pain, put our pain in categories, to let themselves off the hook. But your pain is real and deep and you may feel embarrassed or alone.

Well friends, feel your feelings. Be sad, angry, frustrated. Yell and scream at God. He is safe, He desires most of all your true heart and He knows it anyway, so go ahead and hurt. Hurting is not wrong. Emotions are not sinful. Being sad is not wrong and it does not mean that you do not trust God. The most damaging thing someone can do to you is make you feel like you are doing something wrong by hurting when you are in the midst of pain. Because now, not only do you have the pain but you have the feeling of guilt because you can’t stop feeling the pain. Or the worry. Or the fear. Try giving yourself the permission to walk in your pain, walk through it hopefully, even if it takes a very long time. I am sorry if people have tried to placate you with Christian sayings and various “comforting” Bible verses without accompanying those with any real comfort. I know how that is. In our world, and maybe it has always been this way, we are so accustomed to plastering on a smile that we may not even know how to share our true hearts with each other. Much less offer to help carry someone else’s very real burden.

But when the Bible says, “Do not fear” it does not mean IT’S A SIN IF YOU FEAR, SO STOP IT ALREADY YOU’RE MAKING ME UNCOMFORTABLE. You know what it means? It is God saying to you:

I’m here, and I am a safe place.

It is permission to try letting it go.

A little at a time.

Over years maybe, a lifetime, but with the assurance that in the empty space that comes when you are letting go of your pain, God will patch your broken heart with love.

No rush.

A hard-learned lesson: The Doldrums

Waiting.

In life, this is the single most difficult thing for me to do. In line, in traffic, for a baby to decide he’s ready to be born (5 days late), it is and has always been near torture for me. Why is this? I’ve been asking myself this question over the past few months, and the answer I think comes from my nature to control and from a deep restlessness, a need to always be doing. Because if I’m moving and doing something productive, I must be in control. Right?

I had this crazy math teacher in high school. I can’t even remember what year it was or what course she taught us, but I do remember her talking about “the doldrums”. I think once she even drew a picture of a ship out on a stagnant ocean. We made fun of her all year for it, but she was teaching us an important lesson. The most dangerous and difficult place to be is not in the center of a storm, but stuck in a place where barely a breeze is blowing. Floating in the doldrums, the place that ship captains feared because no amount of reinforcing the ship or teaching new skills to the crew members could save you from weeks of no wind and a stagnant sea. Samuel Coleridge in his very famous poem Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner describes this place, and it resonates in my heart as the place I am in right now.

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody Sun, at noon,

‘Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the Moon.

 

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, no breath no motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

 

Could there be a truer test for faith in God than this? Many men run to God in a storm to save them, fewer men run to God in times of plenty to thank Him, but fewer still run to Him in times of consistent and seemingly endless longsuffering, when God seems to not be moving. Well, we do in the beginning but after a while we give up. Because it is then when the lie of abandonment sneaks into our hearts and tricks us into thinking that God must not care for us like we thought He did. We may be important enough to keep alive, but just barely. Certainly not important enough to deserve a strong wind at our back and clear skies ahead.

When my dad died, now almost three months ago, I replayed the song, “It Is Well With My Soul” over and over in my mind for weeks. I will always associate that song with both happy and sad memories, and the vision of a ship tossing about in a storm is so clear and vivid a reminder of that time. But even a storm can distract us from God because there is something to fight. We have a role to play, even if our job is just to get through the bad situation. Storms always end. It’s tough while you’re in it but you come out the other side praising God for his goodness to you during that time, and you share with others the things God taught you. However, the biggest lesson in patience comes when the sea billows do not roll, but when there is nothing to fear but that your circumstances will never change. That God must have forgotten about you. No man can make the wind blow.

You can climb onto the sails and puff up your cheeks and blow with all of your might, but the ship will not move. You can fight it as hard as you like, pull out the paddles, readjust the sails, but at some point it will be clear that you are totally not in control. The only thing to do is surrender: your plans, your need to be moving, your timetable, and possibly even your very survival. Sometimes when Christians are going through a long, tough time they think that if they finally learn the lesson God has for them to learn, finally He will move in their lives. If they lay out their hands in surrender, He will blow onto their sails. But surrender does not cause God to move, it allows Him to change your focus from one of control (“When, God? How much longer?”), to complete and utter lack of control (“I’m not worried. I’ll accept your blessing when it comes”). In the same way, your lack of surrender is not keeping God from moving. He is not dependant on you. He may just be reminding you that you are dependant on Him. You may stare at an unchanging sea with barely a ripple in the water for days, weeks, years. When He is not changing your circumstances, He is very likely changing your heart.

The most frustrating part of this equation is when God has given you a vision or a desire. You felt like He gave you a glimpse of what was to come. You may have had a strong urge to move to a particular place, be in a different job, start your family, start a ministry, and you feel or even know in your heart that these desires are whispers from your Father. Yet, when you try to make those things come to fruition, you fail. Chad has had more job interviews than I can remember, and each time we thought we had felt a breeze. The wind is coming! God is keeping His promise of a new job for Chad! And then the breeze died. And sometimes, our faith died right along with it. I have known people who knew they were supposed to be living in a different place. They couldn’t sell their house and had to put off moving for years. God whispered to them a desire but it was not yet His timing. Ever wonder why He keeps us in the dark sometimes? We hear that whisper and start running, trying to make things happen ourselves. You want me to move? I’m ON IT. Or, when we think a door is opening (a job interview, an offer on our house) we assume that MUST be God. We felt a breeze, so the wind must be coming!

      But even when we’re pretty sure we have waited long enough, that we have learned a lesson, that we have submitted our lives to God, He may still ask us to wait in an unchanging sea. Even when we see other ships sailing by, ships with our friends or relatives on them with the wind full at their backs, He may still ask us to wait. Even when we have a mortgage to pay and no money to pay it with, when we are on our last round of fertility treatments, when we are still sick, when our job has become incredibly unfulfilling, He may still ask us to wait. So, what to do then? Worship Him. Pray ceaselessly. Jesus taught us how to pray, and even He asked for God to change his circumstances, but he added “Not my will but Yours be done”. We can thank Him for our vision and trust Him with its fruition. We can be witnesses for Him, hold the hands of others who, like us, are in the doldrums and need a friend to wait with. We can encourage each other, love each other, and cause people to wonder at the crazy awesome Hope that we have.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Goodbye, PumpMonster

  Hey PumpMonster. Well, it's your very last day with me. I haven't used you in a few days and I know that I won't need you again, probably ever. It's been a long road for you and me, with quite a few bumps. I guess our friendship, or maybe I should say partnership, started three years ago a few days after I brought my girls home from the hospital. I was a new mom with two babies to feed, and I was nervous. They were so tiny, only five pounds, and I really wanted to provide all the milk they needed. So you helped me. I filled up my freezer, and for eleven months you helped me feed them. Sometimes I felt like I was tied to you with a ball and chain, and I wanted to stop using you but I felt bad about not giving my babies milk that was there for the taking. So, I appreciate it. But man, I was glad when I finally made the decision to let you go into the closet for a while. You were definitely not one of my most favorite machines. I'd give that award to Coffee Maker any day.

 

 

 So then, about 15 or 16 months later, I needed you again. I had told everyone within earshot that there was NO WAY I was going to pump when Jude was born. If he couldn't get it from the tap himself, he wasn't going to get it. But, duh, I was going to have a really hard time stopping at only three months after making it almost a year with the girls. So I brought you back out and we started hanging out again. Six times a day. For seven more months. And I decided to like you a teensy bit. And we hung out first thing in the morning and last thing before I went to sleep. And I was thankful. So you're not so bad I guess, but you're still a monster and I'm still really glad that you're retiring.

 

I hope you liked your retirement party. I made you a card and everything, but I'm pretty sure you can't read, so I read it aloud to you. It contained this poem:

Swooshee shwooshee

you talk to me

late at night

while I pump

Are you saying "Kelly clarkson"

Or "I like grass"?

I wish I knew

 

I made you an ice cream sandwich. Just kidding, I bought it. It was a store brand. On sale. I don't want you thinking I really like you or something just in case you try to voodoo magic me into getting pregnant again just so that I can pull you out of the closet.  Maybe I can find you someone else who needs you. Anyway I thought you looked excited about the sandwich but your skinny tubing arms were too weak to pick it up I guess so I fed it to you. Honestly it was a little weird, but I would have gotten mad if you had let it melt all over the place.  

 

 

 Later on after a few glasses of wine we started really talking and you told some hilarious stories about some stuff that I can't really remember. There are pictures though, and I'm laughing in most of them. You look the same. I guess I could be laughing at myself just sort of near you. But as I wrapped up your cords and zipped you up to put you away, I felt like in some odd way we had become friends.

Thanks for all your help, PumpMonster. Now it's time for you to move to Florida and watch all those Matlock episodes on your dvr.

You could be sleeping for all I know.

The Black Crayon

It’s been eleven days. The flowers have wilted, the food has been eaten, the calls and emails and facebook messages have slowed to a trickle. My kitchen window is adorned with cards that say things like “At This Time of Loss” on the front, and the little cards that come with flower arrangements are also at eye level, reminding me that Crystal in Seattle and Cindy in Vermont and quite a few others are praying for us from afar. There are no more articles about my dad to share, links to news stories to email, and they’ll probably be removing the bench that had been set up by his grave pretty soon. Slowly but surely, we’re supposed to be getting back to real life.

The past eleven days have been a fog. I remember being in the hospital where I heard the news, I remember the funeral, going to where the accident happened, the kindness of people, the hugs…but did it all really happen? My memories are clouded with a thick layer of smog, only tiny moments standing out with any clarity. I wish I had some windshield wipers for my brain. “Um” has taken on a prominent role in my vocabulary as I search through my exhausted mind for simple words. I walked around for half an hour this morning with just one flip flop on and immediately forgot that I was looking for the other one. The only way that laundry and dishes have gotten done is because of my sweet mother-in-law who came down to help. My exhaustion is never-ending, regardless of how much sleep I get (and let’s be honest, even though my kind husband gets up in the morning with the little ones I’m still nursing Jude at night and I still have three tiny kids). I know that this is grief and that slowly it will lift, but it does not change the fact that I’m living it right now. Even my eyes are having a hard time focusing, like I should be wearing my glasses all of the time. My glasses, however, are terrible and don’t help me at all and I really need new ones (add it to the “when Chad gets a job” list that is constantly growing with our needs). I know that my glass-half-full, multitasking, on-top-of-things self will one day return, but I’m not there yet. I’m feeling buried with the stress of almost a year of joblessness, seeing so many things around the house that need to be fixed, replaced, updated. Wondering why God hasn’t provided a job for Chad yet, why he has had to spend so many, many hours searching and applying and coming up with nothing. And now this. A loss so painful and so sudden that I feel buried even deeper. I am trying to live and take care of my children and my house and myself and maintain any sort of relationship with my husband and my friends and my family while up to my neck in swirling water that threatens to pull me under, and sometimes I want to let it.

And I could blame God for all of this. But I will not.

Because I am not so wise that I can claim to understand how God works. All I know is the He is my very last and only hope. I will not curse the hand that is reaching out to help me because I think He came too late or not in the manner that I wanted. I just know a truth, and it is probably the very first truth that I learned about God:

Jesus loves me, this I know.

For the Bible tells me so.

That’s all I have. I occasionally think of an encouraging scripture, and people write great verses on their sympathy cards. But this line of a song is so firmly engrained in my heart that it’s the only thing I’m able to cling to or think of consistently throughout my days. He loves me. I can hardly even form a prayer right now; I’m just sitting in that huge, deep love. I know it’s there, I can feel it. The thing is, it does not take away the pain. It just accompanies the pain with hope.

Today Hazel was sitting at her little brown table drawing on a piece of paper with a black crayon. Even though the chairs and table are kid-sized, her feet don’t quite touch the floor and were daintily crossed at the ankles. She was wearing ballet shoes and a bright pink Dora princess dress which is so well-loved that the edges are starting to fray, and her hair which had yesterday been in a neat ponytail was beautifully messy. Hazel’s voice literally sounds like what an almost three year old real-life princess would sound like, so gentle and high-pitched, and she was describing her drawing to me. “It’s a circle, and Evangeline and Hazel at the swimming pool.” She described to me the different colors in her drawing, even though the only crayon she had used was black. Even though I made no move to leave she put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Don’t go away Momma.” I knew she needed me to sit there with her and listen, so I did. I think I needed it, too. She was fully herself in that beautiful toddler way that I so envy. The drawing was all scribbles but she kept talking about all of the things she was adding to the picture: her name, my name, a picture of a giraffe, she and Evangeline jumping into the pool. And then I realized how different I felt, like I was wearing the best glasses that not only clarified my vision but also my mind. Her eyelashes, her face, her voice: all of it was jumping out to me. I was in focus, she was in focus, and in that moment of clarity hope snuck into the dark swirling waters of my heart and nestled itself in. Her black crayon, the color we use to represent death and despair, was drawing the most beautiful picture to her. And I started to see it, too.

 

 

Ready for bikini season? Six easy steps for the perfect post-baby body!

In a feverish bought of recent spring cleaning, I pulled out bins of old clothes that I keep under my bed looking for items to donate. I came across my maternity bathing suit from last summer, and could hardly believe how big it was. It was massive. Did I actually fill this thing out? I did, I remember, and to be honest it was a little tight towards the end. In the same bin I found my pre-baby string bikini that I’ve been holding onto since before the girls were born.  It was so tiny. Like, miniscule. How was my body ever that small? How did that triangle of fabric cover my whole boob? Am I missing part of this, this can’t be the whole thing, right? It’s frightening, amazing, bizarre to think that the same body wore both of those swimsuits comfortably. And now, it’s time for a new one to fit my new body. Here is a little breakdown of my body’s journey the last few summers based on my bathing suits:

Summer of 2009- teeny, mind-blowingly small bikini. Like, you even try a cannonball and it's gone and sucked down the pool drain before you come up for air.  

Summer of 2010- massive, enormous maternity bathing suit that I stretched out and ruined, but was still pretty cute. Plus, I had no kids yet and hours to spend at the pool. Remember those days? When your pool bag had not one single goldfish cracker in it??  

Summer of 2011- modest, small tankini that my newly miniscule boobs (that recently stopped producing milk) couldn’t even begin to fill out. We're talking baby-sized tube socks full of sand. You're welcome for the visual.

Summer of 2012- shroud-like black maternity bathing suit that must be made of three full yards of fabric. If nuns could get married and have babies and needed to buy a bathing suit, they would buy that one.

Summer of 2013- ??

So, bathing suit shopping is nigh for me. I wrote a guideline for myself so that I won’t fall back into my bad habits of over-scrutinizing and under-appreciating my body as I start to see more and more of it with summer on the horizon. I turned my guidelines into something for you too, in case you’re at all like me and sometimes struggle with body image insecurities.

1- Look at your kid(s). Before you step foot in a store to try on a bathing suit, take a long look at the people your body made. Look at their long eyelashes and soft skin, look at their silly grins and tiny fingers, and look at the life they have made for you out of the life your body gave to them. None of it would have happened without your incredible body, and God’s amazing design.

2-  Thank God, every day, for your body. For all of the things it has done and continues to do for you. Whether you like to run, swim, or just walk really slowly while holding the hand of a toddler who Is trying their best to run into the middle of the street, be consciously thankful that you can do it. If you are breastfeeding, be thankful that you can do it. Try and remember to say a prayer of gratitude for your strong arms when you pick up your little one, or for your soft lap when they snuggle close. For your ears that can hear their cries and laughter, and for your eyes that, if you’re like me, marvel at how beautiful they are, every single day.  

3-Realize that your body is on a journey, just like you. It’s a reflection of where you are in life, and we are all marked by our journey, even physically. My stomach looks like one that has once been full of life, near bursting with the kicks of little people fighting for space as they get ready for life in our world. It tells a hugely important part of my story and I don’t need  to erase that. My boobs have stretch marks, having gone from insignificant things that I rarely thought of to these incredible factories that have helped to sustain the lives of three small people. What a gift my body gave me, milk for my babies. I don’t need to look like that didn’t happen to feel good about myself, I am just so thankful that it did. Another part of my journey, marked.

4- Consider taking a break for a little while from fashion magazines, tabloids, or entertainment news. Even just tv. It’s really hard to look at the women who are center stage in Hollywood and then look at our own bodies in the dressing rooms at Target (the lighting, WHY). They may not be free to live in their own skin comfortably and are probably under pressure and scrutiny, and you are not (unless you are doing it to yourself). Be free to be you, and celebrate that freedom with some cake and a margarita. Or three.

5- Step back for some perspective. What’s more important here, the fact that I just brought a life into this world or my fat butt? Your baby is life changing. Your fat butt is not.

6- Eat, drink, and be merry. I spent some time in college being obsessed with weight, food, and exercise. I can never get that time back. It really wasn’t until I got pregnant with my girls that God totally healed me of that anxiety and helped me to see how incredible my body is and how I wasn’t respecting it by trying to beat it into submission. I have let that control go, and now have a healthy relationship with food and with my body. My old anxieties try to sneak up on me every now and then, but I have chosen to enjoy my life with good food, good drinks, and lots of merriment.