Tuesday, October 06, 2009

You guys really are so kind, to keep sticking your head in the door when I have said nothing - absolutely not one thing - of value on this blog in several weeks. Thanks for sticking with me.

An acquaintance said to me recently, "I LIKE the box, you know?" and I knew exactly what she meant. In some ways I, too, like what is predictable. And while I can pretend to be a risk taker at times - what's that Brian? You want to join a band? Quit your job? Work for churches? Pursue life, not money? Sounds good to me. - the reality is that when it's MY turn to make a change, I resist. Mightily. So all of my irrational irksome conversations the past few weeks over whether or not I should pick up more work really boil down to this: how much am I going to resist change in my life? How long am I going to dig in my heels in order to hold on to what is familiar? Exactly how irrational am I going to get?

You can understand why I relate so well to two-year-olds.

And tonight, finally, I'm just over myself. I'm so tired of being lost in my own head. There is much more to life - much more to MY life, even - and I'm tired of acting like vague, nebulous fears are clear, reasonable arguments. No more justifying, no more obsessing. It's over. I have a skill, and in this moment there is a market for it (seriously? This is my big problem in life? Do you understand now just how IRRATIONAL I really am?). If there is an opportunity for me to use my skill to serve others, without creating an unnecessary burden on my family, I'm going to take it. The end.

Also? I love my kids more than I know how to say. And about eighty nine percent of the time, I really enjoy my time with them. But their life is not about me either. Neither is their life in my hands NEARLY as much as I imagine it is. And, most of life really isn't that big of a deal. For example, there is a strong possibility that if you have a little girl younger than my son, and my son meets her, he is going to push her just to hear her squeal. And I don't know what to do about that. But I also am accepting that IT'S OKAY that I don't know what to do about it. And more than likely it's going to pass - just like everything else has - regardless of what I do anyway, so the best thing I can do is CHILL OUT ALREADY and stop acting like every little thing is so damn important. Because it's not. It really is not.

In other news, I've started waking up about 45 minutes before the sun or my children, and friends, it is the best thing ever. Sometimes I exercise (okay, twice I've exercised, but other times I've meant to), but the other days I sit and drink my coffee and read Psalms and pray the Scriptures and just ... be. And who would want to exercise if you could go do THAT instead? It sets a calmer tone to my day, and it also leaves me physically feeling as though I'm not spending my entire day running behind. It has also given me a new patience for the less enjoyable moments of my day (like figuring out how to respond when Asher has pushed down a little girl in playgroup AGAIN and her mother is staring at me, expecting me to Do Something, though I haven't a clue what I should be doing), and it has given me a better perspective overall (see above). Waking up early is good.

Finally, it's my turn to lead our study tomorrow night, and we've reached the Crucifixion. Honestly I just don't know how to study - or discuss intellectually - the Crucifixion. I can have an emotional response to it, or a theological conversation about its significance, but I don't know how to lead a group conversation on the actual thing. I'm stumped. Any suggestions?

Good night all. Now that the fog has lifted, maybe I'll actually write something worth reading here soon.


Anonymous said...

To you and Mary: stop being silly - you always have something to say that is worth reading! Whenever you post those sweet, often funny stories of your boys - THAT is the value of this blog (well, that's part of it at least :)

aristaeus said...

The naughty, Monty Python, part of me wants to say "Crucifixion's a doddle," but that would probably not be helpful here. Sorry.

But I will say that I read your blog still, though I don't comment, and I enjoy it very much.

Also, hit me up if you want some serious help with your discussion. I used to be a teacher once. ;-)

Sound like you need a little Whitman with your gospels. No charge for this: "I am larger, much better than I thought. I did not know I held so much goodness."

Valerie said...

You have no idea how this post just spoke to me. Maybe I will post a blog about it. But thanks.

ljkgates said...

The quote from Whitman is you Stephanie. Some words I think of when I think of you - wonderful wife, awesome mother, terrific daughter in law, spiritual, loving, kind, most generous, compassiionate, understanding, a great friend, one who is always caring and sharing. Life is better because of you.

Jason said...

Love your blogs ....

brian said...

"always look on the bright side of life..." (thanks aristaeus)