#8

So yesterday was another Chick-fil-a day.  An unexpected lunch date with my friend, Erin, and her girls.  Amazing how excited Stella gets about eating at a restaurant– you’d think she was the one relieved of making lunch for two (and myself, if i’m lucky!) while being yelled at and climbed on by her brother (who seems to believe he’s really going to go hungry if he doesn’t remind me LOUDLY) and requested a hundred requests by her sweet, never-stops-talking self.  No, that’s me. But i understand how Chick-fil-a is such a big deal to her:  balloons!  nuggets! free toy with your meal!  a juice box!  and oh– an indoor playground!   I’m a fan too.  In fact there was one almost embarrassing period a month or so ago, where everytime my sister Steph called me, i was in the drive-through at Chick-fil-a.  I did not go through a C-f-a drive even once without her calling (kind of wierd, right?)   Sometimes for a (unbeatably cheap!) cup of coffee without having to get out of the car,  sometimes for various free items (And how i do love free items.  Thank you, calendar coupons), even once for an actual lunch.  (and i have admitted that since being prego i could probably just eat there for lunch every day.)

I did not intend to sound like such a commercial here.  The point was the lunch date.  But really, who doesn’t like saying “thank you,” and receiving “my pleasure!” as the response?  And the manager who always wants to carry all your stuff for you if you are a mom with a couple kids in tow.  That’s good people.

So, we sat to eat.  The girls were having their own conversation, giving us a glorious chance for grown-up talk.  And we both agreed– thank God for the blog.  I am thankful to see her use her words to be completely honest and always encouraging.  I am thankful for a place to process and a way to sort of see my friends in process as well.  A reminder that little daily events become the makings of big changes.

I was a little uncomfortable at first, but now, finally getting used to the keyboard, remembering where all the letters are again.  I am a big journaler, and find that writing (or typing) speeds my internal thought processing up a lot. Or makes it possible at all:  I am very good at not thinking.  My mind gets overwhelmed knowing that there’s something there to deal with, but not sure where to start, and i just shut it down and occupy myself with something that’s most likely meaningless.  And i am so good at that– give me a Friends re-run over a moment to really think anyday.  I don’t know where to start with the thinking, and everything feels so tangled.  But in writing, i find focus.  And clarity. Whew.

So in light of this pursuit of focus, process and progress, i will leave you with this brilliant gem:

“Give me understanding that i may keep your law and observe it with my whole heart.

Lead me in the path of your commandments, for i delight in it.

Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to selfish gain!

Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.”

Psalm 119.34-7

#7

I have been accidentally learning some new things about myself. Not that i want to remain ignorant, but it isn’t always fun to find out things about yourself; ignorance felt easier. I mentioned in my post about “faithful” my difficulty with goals and purpose.

This weekend, while my sisters were visiting, we were discussing personal goals (thank you, Court and Brian, our analysts). Court asked me what my personal goals are. I thought about this, and asked her to clarify the question. “Like daily goals for yourself, things a daily routine,” she says. Okay, “Uh, brush my teeth twice a day?”

When Court and Brian exchanged a look of disgust, I suspected that was not the right kind of answer. “You don’t brush your teeth twice a day?” Of course i do, i explained, well, at least most days i do (more disgusted looks), but that’s part of my daily routine, and isn’t that what we were talking about here?  So Court (a wee bit patronizing, maybe) writes down “Lindsay’s Personal Goals: Brush teeth twice a day.” And that just makes me feel like a sad case, and it’s not even what i really meant! So the conversation continues, moving on to “social goals” and “long-term goals,” and ending in me wondering what is wrong with me.

It’s not that i lack aspirations, but it’s difficult for me to think about those things outside of them happening, and articulate/plan/prepare for them. I don’t want to think or talk about it, I just want to do it. I may be missing some pieces of internal wiring, i don’t know. Lots of this self-realization is spurred by my one stinkin’ word, which must be the right one if i already dislike it so much.

“Faithful,” is what is on my mind every time i realize i forgot to send emails i promised to send, every time i skip my quiet time with the Lord, every time i lay on the floor and let the kids play around me so i can just not move for a few minutes, and every time i go to bed too late because i got distracted. There are plenty more examples, but that should suffice to convey the process i am in. So many little things, but the little things are the big things in a life of faith, and so there it is. Faithful in all things, steady and reliable; also, full of faith– words that i want to grow into.

One of my favorite discoveries in this “goal” situation is this (thank God for his perfect timing in leading me to this passage):

Ezra 7.10″For Ezra had set his heart to study the Law of the Lord, and to do it and to teach his statues and rules in Israel.”

and then, 2 Chronicles 12.14 (referring to King Rehoboam)”And he did evil, for he did not set his heart to seek the Lord.”

Goals of the heart– not chance or feelings, but setting the heart and following through. So that’s what i’m working on.

#6

Wednesdays are my longest days. And for such good reasons: Tuesday night is Overflow, which i rarely miss because i love it very much. It winds up being a late night– getting home around 10, Brian getting home around 11 and then we re-hash the evening, which leads to going to bed around midnight. Which wouldn’t matter much if Wednesday was like most other days in my week, when i sleep until the kids wake up (7ish, sometimes as late as 8ish,) and then the boys go downstairs for breakfast, while me and Stels snuggle up for another half hour or so, with me immediately falling back asleep until she announces that she’s ready for breakfast. I am thankful for that morning ritual.

But Wednesdays, unlike any other day, i am the first one up. At 6:12. For another sacred ritual: weekly coffee with some of my close friends/roomates from college. A time dedicated to nurturing some of our oldest friendships which, without that set-aside time, would easily fall victim to time conflicts, phone tag, schedule differences and a degree of atrophy.

Well, thank the Lord for Weds. morning. It is one of the most vulnerable places in my life, where we laugh alot and cry fairly often too; we are devoted to knowing and encouraging one another’s devotion to Christ. This morning, talk (often spurred by Mike’s message from Sunday) centered on the isolating power of our minds– how easy it is to (often accidentally) nurture our insecurities. To become guarded and unloving– unable to receive love. To believe we are alone in our struggle. And as much as want to crusade for “you are not alone in your struggle! ” well, i forget it all the time.

Funny we talked about that, though. A little later in the day, i took the kids on a special outing to Chick-Fil-A, in celebration of Stella’s Third Birthday. Hooray! Fun for everyone. (Except for a terrible fear on the part of both my children of the Chick-Fil-A magician, and his dummy. But that’s another story). Well, adding to the excitement, we brought along some favorite friends, and then, once we were all full of fried chicken and juice boxes, we went to play in the Play Area.

So here comes the part of my day where i think i completely failed a test from God: the only other mom in there was a former co-worker of mine. Someone i had not seen even once since completing my last shift. Someone who in those days, (having ten years under her belt when i started working at the place) clearly had superiority over me (er, everyone), and was not overly eager to make newer folks welcome. Now, i know i’m not exactly Suzy Sunshine (ha!), but certainly that is less Ice-Queen than Need-a-Good-Ice-Breaker. I strive to appear as friendly/welcoming as i feel on the inside (i am certainly a ‘people’ person!).

Well, suffice to say, i immediately reverted to a very insecure place inside. And i didn’t mean to at all. But rather than realizing my insecurities, realizing that i was all clammed up, all i could think was about how unqualified, unfit, and shabby i must appear. How some people really believe different things about babies than i do. Like that they should all be perfectly planned and spaced (and not just by God); that they should have college savings from birth, their own rooms, fancy crib bedding and extra-curricular activities, and brand-new brand-name clothes. Things that i’m not too concerned about. But i felt that weight behind our attempts at conversation (granted it was not an easy day to be conversating in the Play Area).

Not to mention, well you know that feeling when you see someone you haven’t seen in a while, and you want to look good for yourself, and all put-together and like you’re doing well? I felt that, and in the worst way. Awkwardly pudgy but not cutely preggo, and therefore in awkwardly frumpy clothes, covered in crumbs and fingerprints from my kids, not even having so much as washed my face yet (remember- 6:12 am!). I did not feel remotely cute or put-together. Adding to my misery is the fact that this encounter is with a pretty polished lady: great (washed!) skin, bright white teeth, frizzless hair, and even clothes that fit! Ack! Could i feel any more dumpy?

Unfortunately, it was not even until driving back home that i realized how badly i must have come off. It’s always distracting to talk over the kids, and of course, always a bit funky to see an old acquaintance you never felt to comfy with to begin with. But as i look back over the moment, i see a blown opportunity to show Christ’s love. To look outside myself and connect. And all i could see was myself!

So i write to process, i write to encourage myself and you that we are not alone in the struggle! It is so easy to see only myself, but i pray to see through the eyes of our Father God: confident in Christ, a vessel of His Love.

#5

Faithful

-adjective

1. Strict or thorough in  the performance of duty:  a faithful worker.

2. True to one’s words, promises, vows, etc.

3. Steady in one’s allegiance or affection; loyal; constant: faithful friends.

4. Reliable, trusted, or believed.

5. Adhering or true to fact, a standard, or an original; accurate, a faithful account; a faithful copy.

6. Obsolete: Full of faith; believing.

It may be enough to start with the unfortunate fact that i simply read the of this word and cringe. Heck, i get a little squirmy at just the very first word:  Strict.  Then thorough.  Performance of duty. These phrases alone have me all inadequate feeling and kind of tight in the chest and wondering what exactly it would look like to be “strict or thorough in the performance of duty” in my life.     I mean, i perform my duties thoroughly enough, right? My kids are always fed (three times a day, even! Plus snacks!)  I clean my house daily (although not my entire house, daily of course).  These are the things i think of:  is this enough?

But i chose “faithful” as my “one word” this year, because i cannot really understand it.   I know  the words “steady,” “reliable,” “true,” are less accurate descriptions of me than, perhaps the popular “laid-back,” or “calm.”   I’m afraid that in seeking to develop a faithful heart and life, i must pursue some things that are usually entirely elusive to my mind.  Things that Brian is very comfortable with, but that make me feel funny– like “goals.”  “Systems” and “schedule” are other good ones, as well as (ugh) “discipline.”

And these things are so important because my primary motive behind “faithful,” is to become a faithful follower of Christ.  The constant roadblock to my progress is my inability to commit to regular, disciplined time in the Word.  (If you have not caught on: i don’t like to commit at all, really.  Especially to anything regular and/or disciplined; and i think it’s because i don’t want to fail.  Which i usually do!).  So the real mission of the word is the pursuit of faithfully pursuing Him.  And the other purpose is to be someone who comes through on my word rather than forgetting and flaking out like i often do.  To be reliable, steady, and loyal, rather than thoughtlessly going with the flow of whatever happens in my day.

So, i have a lot to think about, and even more to do.

#4

First off, a disturbing realization.  The other day, we were out having a little family date downtown, and were planning to do the weekly big grocery trip together.  I explained to B how the Leland Wal-Mart was probably worth the drive because it’s significantly less crowded than our Wal-Mart.  Did you catch that?  I referred to that big ugly box that i visit weekly (not because i prefer it, but because i like to be thrifty) as “Our Wal-Mart.”  Ooh, i am so grossed out by that thought.

So, the purpose of today’s post:  Yesterday’s bad day.  Ugh.  You know the day when you are determined that even though the circumstances are less than perfect, you will still have a good day and keep your cool and all that?  And then you lose it?  Yesterday was it.  I mean, of course i’ve had that day before.  But yesterday was a great example.

Oliver was the usual– nonstop motion, climbing all over the world,  getting a huge kick out of almost falling off furniture, unfolding all the laundry i just finished folding and pulling things off of shelves.  Even if that was it, whew!  I was tired.

At the same time, Stella decided to cry like a baby all day long.  And when i say ‘like a baby,’ i mean with no explanation, and no stop.  “Are you hurting?” i would ask.  Yes, she said.  When i ask what hurt, “Nuffin’s huriting mom.  I don’ t want to talk about iiiitttttt!” (dissolving back into tears at the end there).  Then, we’re walking the loop, with the promise of playing at the park when we finish.  “Mom, i need to sit in the other side of the strolleeerrrrr!”  “Mom, carry me!”  “Mommy, i neeeeed you!”  “I want to go to the paaaaarrrkk!”  “I don’ t want to go to the paaaaarrrrkkk!  I (sob) want (sob) to go (gasp sooooobbbb) hoooooome! (inconsolable tears.)”

And again, whew.  I just don’t know what do with that.  I understand a bad day, but do you have to be so loud about it? So, you get the picture.  After nap time, we headed out to Target for some comfy new sweatpants for me (the clothing situation is getting awkward).  Many battles ensued concerning my insistence that Stella wear both clothes and shoes out, and then about snack, and then about walking to the car (rather than me carrying her).  So, you can imagine that by the time Brian was home for dinner, i was ready to run away and let him deal with it.  Unfortunately, that was not an option.  What followed was a lot of my sweet husband helping me “problem-solve” my day (ugh) when of course, i was interested in nothing of the sort– i wanted (say it with me, ladies) for him to Just Listen!  And maybe tell me that even though I’m becoming very round, i’m beautiful.  And that i’m doing a good job even when i don’t know what i’m doing.  Ah, the joys of male/female communication differences in marriage!   I guess in the end we were able to talk out some of the pressing issues.  But i will tell you this, i still want a vacation.

I have no good ending here, but the thing i am seeing is that i need to find a way for life (and by that i mean Life–  fullness of life and being filled by Christ) to be independent of circumstances.  I know that sounds like the most obvious thing in the world, and it’s all over the Word.   To really be ‘transformed by the renewing of my mind.”  This is necessary, and i know that it’s what God has for me.  My desire (my goal?) is to devote myself to time alone in the Word and seeking God’s heart in prayer each day.

#3

Good news: the picture i referred to in the last post is now visible. That’s it– tiny new baby Few.  Not much different from it’s actual current size– an inch long last week when we saw him/her.

Thank goodness i figured out that picture thing– I was not having a good time trying to figure it out, and I don’t really know what i’m doing here. But did you notice i spruced the page up a wee bit?

The title of blog #3 is fitting today, since today we had the first 3rd showing of our home. (The same potential buyer returned for the third time in five days! Really bored, or really about to buy our house??) So we are trying to not ‘put our eggs in the basket,’ although we are hopeful.

I, as per my usual lately, am feeling like bleeehhhh, and therefore hereby send myself to bed.

#2

# 1

The truth is, i have been secretly wanting to ‘blog’ for a while now.  Even though the word is something i still cannot say (or think) without feeling like it’s something that belongs in a kleenex.   Like many things, what has stopped me is just knowing that so very many other folks are doing it, and quite well at that.  And what if my blog exposes that i’m really dorkier than you already thought?  Or a worse blogger than all the other bloggers of blogs? (a tissue, please?)  And there’s the question of whether anyone would ever read it, and if it would actually be better or worse if lots of people did.  Which, of course spins me down a path of wondering where, for a chronic underanalyzer, have all of these questions (exposing such embarrassing vulnerability!) come from?  Nonetheless, i am more and more convinced that this practice is one that can only assist in maintaining my sanity. And the past few weeks that in itself has been a worthy goal.  So, here i am, blogging about the blessed event of this blog, simply savoring for the first time in a long time these moments of thinking through the tapping of my fingers on these little letter keys.  Ahhh.