We All Take Control and Struggle Differently

My very dear friend posted a blog about finding the "new mom". I have mulled what she said over and over and thought about how it holds to my life. She talked about letting go; releasing her cautious self; this was found during skiing and it has changed her life. As always, my friend gives me much to think about. I am also in a season of change; a time of finding the "new me", finding the person and living to be all that God created me to be. It's exciting and terrifying and in the midst of my soul searching, life keeps happening. My friend says that she is "promoting living and taking chances" and that she is "breaking out of the musty molds and being who you were created to be". Strong, thought provoking words.

I began my period of discernment so many years ago, 1997 to be exact. For a very long time, it was something I thought about, prayed about, and talked about, but I knew it wasn't happening anytime soon. During that time I was full time wife and mother with a lot of volunteer activity thrown in. For a very long time I loved my life and couldn't imagine doing anything differently until the children were grown. But life has a way of changing, and with every move and every season, I heard more and more clearly that I was called to begin seminary and to be ordained not later but now. My family heard the same call and supported me completely. So, after many interviews, essays, and internships, I was accepted to be a postulant and this February started seminary. And then life happened.

Life, the stress of parents divorcing after 44 years; I had no idea it would play the emotional role on me it had. Life, the not so easy adjustment to an new city--realizing it wasn't going to be as "perfect" as I always imagined. Life, a son hospitalized twice in 5 weeks and 3 more children constantly sick. Life, an ice storm that shut down the city and "set me back" in finishing another set of courses. Life hit and hit hard, but I wasn't alone. My husband began working from home more and taking on so many new jobs and he did it quietly and sacrificially. My rector and his family embraced us as family and stepped in every chance they could. And I have struggled.

I have struggled with wanting to go back to my comfort zone--I'm a good competent full time wife and mother, and I can take care of my family. I have struggled with wondering if this is the right time; I have struggled with believing I can do this; I have struggled with realizing that some of the people I thought would be the most supportive are not; I have struggled with feeling guilty for the sacrifices others are making for me. I have struggled with realizing that I was probably not as supportive of Chris during his graduate schools as I should have been. I have struggled with letting go and letting Chris take over more. I have struggled with feeling like I am failing my family. I have struggled with being afraid I will fail my family and friends who are being so supportive and believe I can do this. I have struggled and I continue to struggle with breaking out of my comfort zone--out of the "musty molds and being who God created me to be."

My dear friend went to a mountain top on skis, alone. She had a conversation with God about letting go. She realized how cautious she had been her whole life and recognized that letting go and skiing was her illustration of how she was going to change her life in so many ways. But she did it alone, and it worked for her to be alone. After she succeeded, she rejoined her family and they haven't looked back. That worked for her and I wish it worked for me. As I struggle, I need to talk, to reflect, to say aloud how I feel, to express my fears, to share. I don't need someone to fix it for me or give me advice, I just need them to listen, to allow me not to be confident, capable and smart. But that's not always a comfortable place for people. I understand that. When someone is sacrificing so much for me to follow this road, they don't want to hear about my doubts and anxieties. I do understand that, so now I struggle with being alone to work it through. Wish I had a mountain top and a pair of skis.

Tolerated Step Child

I went to Diocesan Convention yesterday; it's supposed to be an uplifting community building event, but for me; well, I felt like the tolerated step child. It didn't seem to matter that I was there, and to whine further it took a great deal of effort to be there. I am exhausted (which perhaps exacerbated the negative feelings) from having a child in the hospital, two other sick children who are just getting well, and as I was on the two hour drive to the convention, my eldest called to tell me she had the flu--doctor confirmed. Add to that a husband who isn't feeling well but is doing so much (here I feel the guilt of depending on him), a paper due, a test, and mountains of reading. So, it did take some effort to get there. And then...

I know that I didn't come up through the ranks of this Diocese, and really I was thrust upon it. I had discerned in two other Dioceses; although the Bishop and the Commission on Ministry didn't have to accept me, I'm certain they felt some pressure. Nonetheless, this is the Diocese supporting me for seminary and this is the Diocese in which I will serve--most likely forever, and I felt simply tolerated. I said to myself and to others it didn't matter, but I lied--it did and it does.

It mattered that I was barely introduced

It mattered that the woman sitting next to me (although later kind) cut me off when I was speaking in a very abrupt way

It mattered that my very pastoral rector sent me a note listing the seminarian interns from St. Mark's and added my name to the list (an impressive list too!)

It mattered that the chair of the Commission stopped to ask me about my children by name

It mattered that a leader barely spoke to me and when hearing my child had just been discharged from the hospital made no comment and walked away

There were lots of things that mattered and pretending they didn't isn't true to myself or others. There were glimpses of grace and love and I'm holding on to those because the overall feeling I was left with was "you can stay or go it doesn't matter."

A learning moment? Yes--a moment to remember that we all need to matter and we need to know it. God created us to be in community and relationship and when we pretend it doesn't matter, we are turning our back on part of what God created. I don't need standing ovations, pats on the back, awards on my wall, but I do need to know that the community to which I belong supports my path, believes in my path, and wants me to stay. If that's not the case--it matters and I need to know.

In the Box

We've all heard it before "there's a difference between listening and hearing". It's really hit me hard over the last couple of weeks. Some people are so wonderful about really hearing others--what they're saying and how they're feeling. Sometimes you can hear with words and sometimes without. It occurs to me that some of the people that are the worst at hearing are those closest to us. The ones that think they know us so well so they "know" how you feel, what you think, or what you mean. The other barrier to hearing is having a preconceived idea of what the person is going to say. Sometimes that is because we love someone so much that we want to hear the are fine, things are better, and they're doing great. We want that so much that "we hear it". It's hard to step back and realize that just because we have known someone for years and know so much about them doesn't mean we can know what they continue to think. People change; they grow; they have new ideas, new life experiences; new challenges, successes and failures--all these things change how people view themselves, others, and the world.

It's wonderful to have those around that know us well--that indeed at times can almost read our minds, but we must all remember that life is about changing and because we understood yesterday doesn't mean it hasn't changed.

I wonder if we do that with God too? We have an idea of "our God"--how our God responds to us and the world and by not allowing that idea to expand, we miss out on seeing new and wondrous things--we miss out on seeing God work in new and marvelous ways. It's so easy to pray to God and then look for the answers--to "see signs" of what God wants for us. Are we looking for the signs that fit our preconceived notion of God or the signs that "fit" what we want?

It's time to step out of the box--to allow ourselves and those we love to evolve--sometimes that means we have to learn new things about them; how exciting! Sometimes we may learn things we don't love or that bring us some pain; but we have to trust that although the changes may not fit what we want for that person, maybe they do fit the person. And God? Let's get God out of the box--our relationship with God changes as we change. Trust--trust that the relationship will just grow stronger and that we will learn more and grow as our relationship deepens. We have to trust that God only wants the best for us even if that seems to change; even if it means stepping out of the box.

Ash Wednesday and Excess

For the past several days I have been thinking a good bit about what to give up for Lent this year. There are always the standards--sweets, alcohol, snacking between meals just to name a few. The problem is due to life right now, I've given up a good bit of that. The other problem is that I know deep down there are many times it's more of a diet time than a true sacrifice. My mind has also turned to what to add as a discipline instead. There are many I could do--longer devotion time in the morning, night prayer every night, increasing our giving at church and so on. All this thinking has led me to consider the purpose of Lent and how to remember that every day and not just when I want a cookie or a glass of wine.

Lent is a time in the desert. A time to reflect and a time to prepare for Easter morning and the glorious gift that God has given us in the resurrection. How might I best use this time to draw closer to God so that Easter morning is more meaningful; so that Easter morning is more this year than it has ever been before? A new beginning for myself and for the world. This year I'm giving up excess. I started to take stock in all the excess in my life--starbucks grande latte's instead of a tall drip coffee, two glasses of wine at dinner instead of just one, seconds on dinner just because it's delicious and not because I am still hungry, checking/playing on facebook several times a day instead of just once--these are just a few. Excess seeps into my life all the time without me even being aware of it. This Lent I want to be more aware--more aware each day of the gifts God has given me--the funds to buy that extra large coffee, a laptop and computer access all the time, plenty of food. And in being aware, I will also be aware of the excess and that will not just be my sacrifice for it really isn't a sacrifice, but rather a time to remember how blessed I am and to give thanks. A time to be more aware; a time to remember.

Can't Stop Smiling and feeling so blessed

I started seminary last week, and I can't stop smiling. I also can't stop yawning as this experience is so exhausting. I feel so blessed that the family has really stepped up to help and be excited for me. Every afternoon all four children independently ask, "how was your day at school Mommy?" It's so wonderful to hear. They've also started doing small chores like unloading the dishwasher, folding laundry, with little to no complaints. I recognize they should have been doing these things all along, but it was so much easier to do them myself. Plus I was trying to be super mom.

I also can't believe how much support and love I feel from Chris. The massive amount of reading and studying has already started, and he keeps encouraging me and also picking up where I feel I'm falling behind. The first night of class, he took over cooking and cleaning the dinner. I think the true miracle was that I didn't try to control his every move!

I talk to other seminarians, and I feel so blessed. I know we all have our own struggles to overcome--me being an involved wife and mother while in school full time, but I am so thankful for the love and support of my family and friends. I'm not worrying about being able to pay to put food on the table or how I'm going to pay for books. Yes it's a hardship and we have to budget more, but we can do it. There are so many that gave up everything and moved here for seminary. They've uprooted their children and quit jobs. I can't imagine the stress they are under. So next time I complain that I have too much to do, I need to reread this. I do have a TON to do, and I am worried about doing it all, but I can't stop smiling that I'm here in seminary and that my family loves and supports me so much.

A Window into Someone's Soul

There are so many windows in the world--big arched bevelled glass majestic windows, regular four pane windows, windows that swing out, stained glass windows and peep holes. I think people are like that. There are parts of our lives that we share with everyone--those big huge windows; everyone's welcome to see those parts of our lives, those feelings, those thoughts. In fact we almost announce them to anyone who will listen. But we also have the other windows--windows that seem foggy and we only share part of what we think. We may let some people see and some just get a glimpse. And then there are the peep holes, we let someone just see a little. The problem with peep holes is they can distort the view. Look through a peep hole in a door. You can't see the whole room and the perception of it's size or depth is distorted. You may think you see something that's not there or you may not see something that is there. Peep holes don't really show us anything. Sometimes we turn our peep holes into bigger windows and select who we will let see. This is very scary--letting someone see the real deal. If I just let you peep into my kitchen you won't see that I haven't cleaned the floor but if I create a window you know. When we let someone peep into our deepest feelings, they really don't know how deeply they go. If I let you see everything you may not like me anymore, you may reject me, you may change your opinion of me. Or worse yet, you may not believe me. You may not understand that I turned that peep hole into a big window and I let you see this is how I really feel down to my core. And if you laugh at me, if you shrug me off, if you assume it's still a peep hole and not my deepest fear, then I'm going to close the window and a bit of me dies. And I'm going to cover the peep hole and hide behind the wall.

We don't know when people share whether it's a peep hole or the whole window-how do we respond to that?

Fear

I'm working through this and have no conclusion to draw, but I think fear is so powerful. It's power is expressed in different ways--one can either overreact because of fear or not act at all. I'm finding fear is very powerful in my life right now. Fear is playing a huge role in my parenting. I'm afraid of all the things that could happen to my children--not physically but the many roads they could go down that will make their lives harder. I fear them making bad decisions in friendships, becoming sneaky and shutting me out. I mostly fear that one day they will disappear from our lives as some children do. That fear has caused me to put them under a microscope and try to dissect everything they say or do--to look for signs of things to come. Parenting from a standpoint of fear doesn't work; it's probably sure to drive in that wedge that I'm so afraid of.

Fear is also driving my life choices. Or rather I'm allowing it to immobilize me. I'm so afraid of failing; of not being good enough or smart enough, that I'm not doing anything. I have essays to write and a CPE application to finish, but instead I find sheets to iron and windows to wash. I'm afraid of not being able to handle it all; I'm afraid that going back to school and then work will be terrible for the family; I'm afraid that not doing it will be terrible for me; I'm afraid of regretting whatever decision I make one day. So I do nothing. And fear has all the power over me. It is true there is nothing to fear but fear itself--fear is powerful.

I'm thinking the opposite of fear is faith. That I have to have faith that I am doing the best job I can parenting. I wake up every morning and try to be a better parent today than I was yesterday. I have to have faith that even when I make mistakes that there is grace enough to cover them, and I have to have faith that even if the worst happens, even if one of my children no longer wants to be part of our lives that I will be able to sustain.

I have to have faith in decisions and I have to step out. I have to stop over thinking. I have seen so many times in my life that decisions I have made have worked out for the best even if it's not the way I planned it or thought it would work. Faith is all I have to conquer fear; the problem is right now I don't think I have enough of it. I guess you could say I fear my faith isn't strong enough. I suppose it has to be an active choice to choose faith over fear. Anyone know how?