Calming the Storm

I'm such an internal processor. It's not that I won't talk about just about anything with anyone if asked, it's just that it takes me so long to make sense of my thoughts and feelings that I don't offer up much until I've wrapped my own brain around things. Sometimes this can be a problem when I'm in a prolonged season of internal mayhem.

I'm sort of in one of those seasons and thus, I am pretty silent on the outside. It takes so much energy to keep up with my swirling mind that I retreat even further into myself. It's not intentional; it's an instinctive survival mechanism. The past couple of years have been hard, heck, the last near decade have been hard, and every once in awhile the craziness of life and the unintentionally stored up mental baggage collide and my life explodes. OK, maybe it doesn't actually explode, but it sort of feels like it. My body starts falling apart (This time it's random weird breathing problems and strange nerve issues in my leg, among other things.), I have sleeping problems, and I succumb to self-indulgent mental anguish.

I find myself in the metaphorical place of the disciples, in the face of the crashing waves of life and the whipping wind of my mind, and I cry out, "Lord, don't you care if I drown?"

Dutch Boat in a Storm, Titus Lunter

Sometimes I give in to feelings of defeat and other times I try to "fix" everything myself, which only adds more pressure and guilt. But, when it comes down to it, even though there are healthy practices I can put into place, it is only God that can completely heal. I have proven over and over that I am not capable of calming the storm. Jesus on the other hand can stretch out His hand and say:

Quiet. Be still!

Someone recently reminded me that praising the Lord is the best weapon for just about anything. Praising the Lord takes the focus off of myself, my anxiety, even physical distress. It doesn't let me take a victim's mentality to life's assaults.

Life is stressful and often full of pain...we weren't promised that it wouldn't be. But our God is good. He is powerful. And, He is worthy of praise.

I certainly don't have all the answers right now, or ever. I can't control life and I can't heal the wounds of the past by myself. I'm trying not to desperately focus on my need for peace, scheming all the ways I can force it into existence, and focus instead on the Prince of Peace Himself.

It's a life-lesson in process, a slow process, but in process none-the-less.

The Ugly Truth

Honestly, life's been kicking the pants off me lately. We're busy, like lots of people, and I tend to be a really focused person...as in too many things at one time makes me a crazy person. Lately, I've been a crazy person.

Being task driven, this means that I still get a lot of work done, but, as I always remind my eager-to-please-people husband, "When you say yes to something, you are saying no to something else."

Well, I like to say yes to tasks. I like to feel a little bit of pressure pressing down on my shoulders--to know that I am taking on a challenge and feel the satisfaction in its completion. I love crossing things off of my to-do list and can get lost in the job for hours on end.

But, saying yes to tasks means I have to say no to something else. Often, what suffers is my relationships, because I only have so much extroverted energy to go around. So, on the outside I'm burning through task lists and on the inside I'm one big ball of ugly.

Usually it's the husband and child that catch the brunt of this. I'm snippy and impatient and lack a generous spirit. This week, the ugly leaked out beyond the confines of the family. It's hard to hide the truth when that happens.

This week I came face to face with the ugly, unloving, and impatient me that has built up inside of my outwardly productive body and this truth smacked me in the face (for what feels like the thousandth time--apparently I'm a very slow learner): It's not OK to trade productivity for love. In fact, its not only not OK, it's completely antithetical to everything I want my life to be about.

1 Corinthians 13 came to mind as I have been processing my inner ugliness:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. ³ If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

⁴ Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant ⁵ or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; ⁶ it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

⁸ Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰ but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. ¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. ¹² For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

¹³ So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

In other words: If I finish all my tasks and work countless hours in a day, but have not love...it's all a waste of time. It's humbling and re-prioritizing.

I've got some changes to make, and the first one is recognizing my constant need for Christ. My independent nature eventually always makes a mess of things and reveals that I cannot live my life in a way that matters without Him.

Praise God for His forgiveness and grace, and especially His love. May He give me those things in abundance so that I can live a life pleasing to Him.

Four-year-olds Speak Interogation

**In the spirit of full disclosure, I am writing this blog from our spare bedroom, where I have called sanctuary. The lights are dim, the white noise is on and I am trying to recover from an Extroverted overload.

Living with a four-year-old is like living with a member of Homeland Security. The questions are ubiquitous and unrelenting. In fact, I'm quite certain that Homeland Security is missing out on a powerful asset. Seriously, Four-year-olds speak Interogation!

***

 

Walking right up behind me when I'm sneaking a quick snack, "What are you eating?"

Don't worry about it, I say.

"Are you eating a cookie?"

No! I sit on the couch and he comes over to sniff my mouth, "Chocolate?"

Sigh. Yes.

"Can I have some?"

 

***

 

Knocking on the bathroom door "Mama, what are you doing in there?"

Still knocking on the bathroom door "I didn't hear you wash your hands!"

 

***

 

"Mama I want to leave now!"

We will leave in 10 minutes, I say.

"How much is ten minutes? Four?"

No, TEN. Count it. It's more than four.

"Five?"

No. TEN.

"One, two, three, four, ten?"

AAAAHHHHH!

***

 

I'm going to take a break from answering questions now!

"What does that mean?"

It means I'm not going to answer any more questions for a little while.

"No more questions?"

I nod.

"Yes or no?"

Good Friday, Mama Style

I like depth and meaning. I need time to process things and I imagined on this day, Good Friday, I would have time to be filled with solemn gratitude for Christ's sacrifice on the cross.

Instead, I woke up in a bad mood. Then I had a couple of errands to run, so I decided to take Little Nut to Starbucks so he could read and drink apple juice and so I could try and squeeze in a devotional time, since I failed to get up early this morning. Four-year-olds just aren't good partners for deep thinking, even well-behaved ones.

One thing I did take from my time was that in the craziness of motherhood I might only be able to focus on one thing. And, today that one thing should be "Thank you, Jesus."

After several bathroom breaks, one emergency run for napkins, and numerous strangers interrupting to comment on Nut's "cool" new sunglasses, which he refused to take off while indoors, I closed out my scattered devotions and said, "Thank you, Jesus," and went to the store.  In the produce section I reminded myself to say "Thank you, Jesus." I then proceeded to take longer than I intended grabbing things and left some of my groceries at the bagging station (every time I use self-checkout it's a bad experience!), arriving home short on cauliflower and time! We inhaled some lunch and were out the door again. Ugh. So much for a day of holy contemplation, but "Thank you, Jesus."

Then we rushed, to our staff's Good Friday service and I sat down feeling harried and scattered and shallow. Yet, as our service unfolded I found my mind relaxing and my heart settling. With my husband present my attention was more focused on worship and the message and less focused on managing The Child. It was a lovely hour-and-a-half reprieve. It gave depth to my "Thank you, Jesus," so that the next time I said it there was more humility and gratefulness behind it.

By the end of the day I actually had two things I learned from this Good Friday! Depth comes through repetition as much as it comes through long contemplation...we moms of young children can take solace in this! Even if I can only snatch enough of my mind back from motherhood to eek out a heart-felt "Thank you, Jesus," I can cultivate an awareness of His presence, and Jesus' presence never leaves one unaffected. Secondly, we all need the Body of Christ, especially us moms. I was walking home with Little Nut and true gratefulness for the service swept over me. I needed time to have my mind forcibly lead toward Christ and it helped to have the extra eyes on my child.

As I close out the day, still more scattered than centered, I am truly grateful to be a part of God's people and in the words of a hymn we sang today:

"Bearing shame and scoffing rude, in my place condemned He stood; sealed my pardon with His blood, hallelujah! What a Savior!" -Philip P. Bliss

 Thank you, Jesus, for today, an awfully wonderful day. What a Savior.

The Scattered Mind

As a whole, INTJs not only seek, but need, depth and meaning in their lives. Not that we are above being shallow, but I find myself feeling less and less myself when I feel scattered and unfocused and have little time to spend in deep thought.

But what do you do when life is busy and you have a four-year-old running around beating on drums and overflowing toilets so that the crescent waterfall floods the bathroom floor and inch full? My brain feels easily scattered and tired and in need of a meeting with my soul. I want, even need, to take time to think deeply, but that is hard work, and when I feel pulled in different directions and distracted by life's constant noise, it's just easier to succumb to anesthetizing activities.

And then I feel less myself and more scattered.

When Adam McHugh, in Introverts in the Church, describes the schedule he maintains to acknowledge his Introverted need to recharge and contemplate during the day, I feel like his life must be like heaven! The book has some exceptional insights, but for most of us, the luxury of space and time in our daily schedule is something we only dream about--especially if you are a mom. And so, it becomes about priorities, giving up some things to get others.

I can't have hours of freedom during the day to think and pray and write, I have a four year old and a ministry role. I have laundry and grocery shopping and friends who are going through crises. But, not only does my personality desire depth, my faith demands it; and so, I have decisions to make.

Writing draws my thoughts together in a way that nothing else does, and I love it. But, it is also hard work--excruciatingly hard! No one promised me that depth came easily, although some days I guess I assume that it does. So, do I decide to reign in the scattered thoughts in my head, measure them by the Lord, and pour them out on paper like a blood offering, or do I watch another show on Netflix? Do I take the time to think and pray or do I snag a few extra hours of sleep?

Despite what the world tells me, I can't have it all. I can have the redeeming challenge of depth or I can have the deceptive ease of shallowness. I must choose, and the choice is obvious, although perhaps uncomfortable, because a scattered and shallow mind does no one any good.

When Silence is Better than Sleep

I love to sleep.  It's been shown that Introverts need more sleep than Extroverts and if I'm any indication, it's true.  The worst thing about mornings is that they come every single day.  If it wasn't a requirement for life, I'd do away with them all together.  I can sleep for hours, take a nap, and sleep some more.

Parenting makes me tired.  Probably more than anything else.  The talking, the lack of personal space, the constant activity...the talking.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my Little Nut for anything but, seriously, it's exhausting.  It's a curse for us Introverted parents.  I mean, every parent is chronically tired, but the Introverted mother finds no peace. 

You'd think with this exhaustion I would want to sleep whenever I could but I find myself wanting to stay up late, even avoiding an opportunity for a little Sunday afternoon nap in favor of...silence. 

Blessed, blessed silence.

Sleep is great but before you know it you're awake again and the noise starts all over again, so I stay awake and revel in silence...or noise only I choose to make.  Usually I'm so over-extroverted that nothing truly productive gets done during these times but even totally exhausted time without a hyperactive three-year-old feels wonderful.  No grabby hands and high-pitched singing and endless questions...just me, by myself, on the whole couch. 

Sleep?  Sleep can wait.  Silence is calling.

Pasta Weekend and Other Gold-Star Mom Moments

This weekend Andrew was working at a Men's Retreat, and so, it was me and Little Nut mostly on our own.  Thursday night our family went to Olive Garden because they now have a "Buy one entree and take one home" deal and, hey, we're missionaries...and I hate to cook.

I calculated that if the three of us shared two entrees on Thursday night, Nut Boy and I could share one take-home entree on Friday and one on Saturday, thereby eliminating the need to make dinner for two days!  Mmmmm....we love pasta so much we'll eat it for three days!  And that's just what we did.  I mean, of course, I microwaved some canned green beans as a side one night and even cooked some carrots the next!  And, Olive Garden provides a nice microwaveable bowl and lid to reheat the pasta, which also double nicely as plates (Nut Boy with the bowl, and I with the lid).  And that is the tale of our delicious, although not very nutritious, Pasta Weekend.

Also, having been Andrew's birthday (he's old, I mean, 35) this weekend we made the most ginormous ice cream cookie sandwiches you have ever seen.  Mainly they turned out that way because I rarely bake and overestimated the size needed for a slightly larger than normal sized cookie!  And, like any good Mom who knows the risk of salmonella and yet still feels the joys of eating cookie dough are worth the risk for her children, I allowed this...

And, all of this pasta eating and salmonella risking, was done in between copious amounts of movie watching.  That thing about TVs corroding your brain...totally a myth.  I've been fighting a cold all week and, considering it's about the only time Nut Boy will sit still and stop talking (I mean, seriously, I think he has a secret stash of coffee beans somewhere), I've had him spend more time than usual in front of the Boob Tube.  So much apparently that the other day he actually ASKED to do "School Time."  I choose to see that as if I have instilled in him a great love of learning, that in the face of watching yet another movie he chose tracing letters and doing flashcards!  He passed the test.  Me on the other hand?

And then there is Halloween.  I grew up not celebrating Halloween and never really gave it much thought until we had a kid.  I've decided that there is much freedom in Christ, and I have no moral qualms with dressing up and eating candy...we don't celebrate evil...Jesus is Lord every day in our home.  But, I have found that in this freedom I now find myself in a quandary.  The truth is, I don't really feel like expending the energy to make a costume and do one more thing...ministry and chores and other activities for the child make our days full.  So, my kid is not dressing up today, not because I believe it's wrong, but because I choose to do other things with my time.  Is that bad to say out loud?

So, let's review...

Abuse of take-out food and relying on canned veggies to provide nutrition.  Check.

Only feeling a tiny twinge of guilt as my child licks potentially life-threatening cookie dough.  Check.

Using TV to babysit my son when I'm sick or trying to get a moment of life-saving relative silence.  Check.

Depriving my kid of the childhood joys of Halloween dress-up and candy for my own sanity.  Check.

Yeah, I'm that Mom. Whose handing out the gold stars??