On Sunday I had a day of mourning. I used to think of them as "black days"; a day where everything looks bleak and hopeless. The struggles that were hard the day before now appear overwhelming and I just no longer want to try. It's a day where my emotions escape from the tiny box I try to lock them in and they run away with me. It becomes a day where I either I fight and am angry at my inability to handle it or I give up and am just sad. Either way, it's not pretty.
Let me pause here to say, I know I don't have it that bad. "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places" really, but every heart has it's own struggles even while we know that others have much more to be sad about. So there are situations in my life that leave me sad: people, relationships, sin, my own failings. And sometimes I just loose sight of the light. Tenth Ave. North says it well: "I'm tired, I'm worn. My heart is heavy. By the work it takes, to keep on breathing."
Emotions are messy and don't usually fit into my rules. Typically I do not "indulge" in them completely unless I have examined it from every angle and decided that they are completely justified.
But this week I just couldn't keep my head up any more. Justified or not, I was so tired of it being so hard. So I let myself mourn. I didn't try to rationalize away my feelings, blame them on hormonal changes, or come up with something to look forward to. I was human.
In "Grace for the Good Girl" Freeman says something about how much us good girls don't like fluctuating emotions because we have labeled some good and some bad and we want to feel only the good ones. But, she says, God has given us these fluctuations to remind us that we are human. And actually embracing them can help one remember how much we need a savior and help us have compassion on other humans.
I got on my knees and I cried and I asked for an answer, a plan, even just a next step. But he gave me none of those.
Instead He gave me Himself.
He reminded me that He knows exactly how I feel. In this situation, He is there too and he has experienced the same things. He shared my burden and so I am able to crawl forward, not with a plan, but with a helper.
I am still sad. I have not had my spirits buoyed by my latest and greatest agenda to make it all fit the picture in my head. But I do not feel so alone and I am closer to "whelmed" rather than "overwhelmed". And I have learned a little bit perhaps about the value in "a time to mourn."
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
"Presence makes your life into a greater gift than Productivity."
I actually read this over a week ago on Ann Voskamp's blog, but it's been haunting me. Probably because I wrote it on my kitchen wall. Productivity is easier for me than presence. Is it that way for everyone? I don't think so. Is it like that in all situations for me? Pretty sure not. It's the guilt that is always chasing me, you see. For the most part, for most of the hours of my day, I can think of something more I can be doing. So, for all of those times when I should relax and focus on what my presence is speaking to those around me, I am instead rushing around trying to be productive. And I measure the success of my days by my ongoing mental list of what I got done that day. And if I have failed to live up to my expectations the I am shamed. I am my own mean boss.
With certain people, and on good days, with my kids, I am able to see the value of presence in the moment. At the end of the day I am able to look back and say, "Yes, I did not cross off any chores in that hour but I did "accomplish" meaningful time with that person." But I have a pretty lofty vision of what meaningful time looks like. Maybe not only do I need to put this quote into action more often, I also need to look at it from another's eyes. Presence probably looks different to everyone at different times.
Another old quote: "In some ways we would prefer to hear Jesus' call to deny father and mother, houses and land for the sake of the gospel than his word to wash feet. Radical self-denial gives the feel of adventure...But in service we must face the many little deaths of going beyond ourselves.Service banishes us to the mundane, the ordinary, the trivial."
I feel like this speaks for itself. My extremest self finds it much easier to embrace a call to serve the Amazon Indians than it does humbly and cheerfully setting aside my schedule for an evening in order to run an errand for my husband. Enough said.
I actually read this over a week ago on Ann Voskamp's blog, but it's been haunting me. Probably because I wrote it on my kitchen wall. Productivity is easier for me than presence. Is it that way for everyone? I don't think so. Is it like that in all situations for me? Pretty sure not. It's the guilt that is always chasing me, you see. For the most part, for most of the hours of my day, I can think of something more I can be doing. So, for all of those times when I should relax and focus on what my presence is speaking to those around me, I am instead rushing around trying to be productive. And I measure the success of my days by my ongoing mental list of what I got done that day. And if I have failed to live up to my expectations the I am shamed. I am my own mean boss.
With certain people, and on good days, with my kids, I am able to see the value of presence in the moment. At the end of the day I am able to look back and say, "Yes, I did not cross off any chores in that hour but I did "accomplish" meaningful time with that person." But I have a pretty lofty vision of what meaningful time looks like. Maybe not only do I need to put this quote into action more often, I also need to look at it from another's eyes. Presence probably looks different to everyone at different times.
Another old quote: "In some ways we would prefer to hear Jesus' call to deny father and mother, houses and land for the sake of the gospel than his word to wash feet. Radical self-denial gives the feel of adventure...But in service we must face the many little deaths of going beyond ourselves.Service banishes us to the mundane, the ordinary, the trivial."
I feel like this speaks for itself. My extremest self finds it much easier to embrace a call to serve the Amazon Indians than it does humbly and cheerfully setting aside my schedule for an evening in order to run an errand for my husband. Enough said.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
I just finished my second ever 5k and I felt the need to say something to someone. Despite my dragging legs and disappointment at not having more at the end, I finished. I know, for real runners, a 5k is peanuts, but for me who is only two months out from swearing "I don't run." it is something. I wish that running felt good, but I have yet to reach that point. It feels great when it's over but it's not like biking for me where mid-ride I am struck by euphoric feelings about how much I love what I am doing right now. Nope. Mid-run I am still struck by nauseous feelings and wonder if I can keep this putting of one foot in front of the other. I'm going to blame it on small lungs. And considering that I am still chilled and haven't stopped sneezing, I'm going to blame it on getting a cold too.
As comfortable as I was in my "I don't run." position, there is a certain amount of satisfaction in proving my own self wrong. Although I also believe I am done running for the season so we'll see what happens when it warms up again next Spring.
Enough about that fitness stuff; I'm not obsessing, I promise.
On to some of my reading from this morning. Richard Foster: "Celebration comes when the common ventures of life are redeemed." As most of my days are consumed by what most would consider "common ventures," I like this thought. Foster was writing about joy and living a life of celebration, "jubilee" even. For the Israelites to celebrate the Year of Jubilee required a great amount of trust. This was when they let go of a lot of things that they could have put their security in: servants, land holdings, even the planting of crops. Yes this year meant freedom for everyone and everything, but the very acts of the celebration required a trust that God would provide for the next year. Likewise, living a life of joy and celebration every day requires that I trust that God is going to see me through the next year, or hour even. Living in freedom requires I put my trust in God, not in the multitude of rules I have created to manage myself.
Ann Voskamp said this week that "All fear is the lie that God's love ends." I'm still pondering that one, but I've found it to be the true root of many of my fears. Maybe it's not that I'm afraid God's love will end, but that it won't be enough for this hard thing I am going through or enough motivation to overcome this sin in my life. Wow, does my thought life really tell the Creator that I don't think He's going to be enough for me? Wow. I think I need to study on "how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ."
So, back to my opening quote, Christ has redeemed my laundry, my changing of diapers, and my breaking up of fights. When I do them as unto Him I can lay them at his feet as a gift and even that I can be that close to Him is cause for celebration.
As comfortable as I was in my "I don't run." position, there is a certain amount of satisfaction in proving my own self wrong. Although I also believe I am done running for the season so we'll see what happens when it warms up again next Spring.
Enough about that fitness stuff; I'm not obsessing, I promise.
On to some of my reading from this morning. Richard Foster: "Celebration comes when the common ventures of life are redeemed." As most of my days are consumed by what most would consider "common ventures," I like this thought. Foster was writing about joy and living a life of celebration, "jubilee" even. For the Israelites to celebrate the Year of Jubilee required a great amount of trust. This was when they let go of a lot of things that they could have put their security in: servants, land holdings, even the planting of crops. Yes this year meant freedom for everyone and everything, but the very acts of the celebration required a trust that God would provide for the next year. Likewise, living a life of joy and celebration every day requires that I trust that God is going to see me through the next year, or hour even. Living in freedom requires I put my trust in God, not in the multitude of rules I have created to manage myself.
Ann Voskamp said this week that "All fear is the lie that God's love ends." I'm still pondering that one, but I've found it to be the true root of many of my fears. Maybe it's not that I'm afraid God's love will end, but that it won't be enough for this hard thing I am going through or enough motivation to overcome this sin in my life. Wow, does my thought life really tell the Creator that I don't think He's going to be enough for me? Wow. I think I need to study on "how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ."
So, back to my opening quote, Christ has redeemed my laundry, my changing of diapers, and my breaking up of fights. When I do them as unto Him I can lay them at his feet as a gift and even that I can be that close to Him is cause for celebration.
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