sovereign
Sovereign God,
Today my heart is heavy. My spirit feels like lead within me. The last few weeks have brought news of so much sorrow and anguish. Too many people that I love are hurting. I feel overwhelmed by the fragility of life and can not wrap my head around how quickly things can change. In the blink of an eye it can shatter.
The television brings news of a crazed leader bombing his own people. Of an earthquake that swallowed the lives of many. Exploitation, starvation, death. It seems to abound.
My phone rings and I hear the teary voice of one I love. She tells me of a baby, so hoped for and already loved whom she will never get to hold. I feel her pain and I cry silently with her. There are no words that I can offer. All I can give is some soup and a loaf of bread.
Another day, a friend spills tears as she tells me of her fractured marriage. Of dreams shattered. Of pain so deep she can think of nothing else. Again, what can I say? I offer my hand, my shoulder & we lean into one another and let the tears flow.
I open my computer and read the news of a tragic death. A senseless accident that claimed the life of a great man living out a dream with his family in Africa. I did not know him well but I have heard countless stories from those who loved him & know that given the opportunity, we would have called him friend. Today, I listened to my friends weep, shocked and stricken by the news of his death, rocked to the core. I think of his wife. Of his children. And I can’t help but add my own tears. Why, God? It all seems so senseless. And what do I have to offer those who mourn but a cup of tea and a spot on my couch?
In days like these it is easy to fall into the “what if’s”. Seeing someone else’s pain makes the possibility real & it horrifies me. What if? Last night as I watched my family walk out the door, I studied their faces, engraining them on my heart. I hugged them a little tighter, looked into each of their eyes and whispered, “Come home to me” to the man I love. What if?
Some days I do not know how to make sense of tragedy. I feel stuck in the what if’s and my unspoken fears. I know that is not where I need or even want to live but somedays Lord, I don’t know where else to be. I know that you are in the midst of our pain but sometimes I wonder, where exactly? I confess that I have trouble finding you in those moments. I like to live in the sunny places like a cat who seeks out pools of light. I long for the high spots with glorious views. I desire, even expect days full of joy- the ones that come with ease and laughter and wonder. I don’t want pain or sorrow or mourning and yet, that is part of what it means to be human. To be fully alive. There is no joy without sorrow. I know these things but I struggle with how to live them out. How to be in the narrow places and still trust that you are there & shout (or whisper within me) that you are good, even when things just don’t make sense.
Help me, Sovereign God to find you in the darkness, when I can’t see your face. To trust in your goodness & to sing of your faithfulness. Help me to find you in the now and not just in hindsight. I want to embrace this life you have given me, to live with intention & to not be crippled by the days of what if’s and dark fears. Help me to live grateful and fully alive. Oh, God, engrain your image on my heart and teach me to know your voice.
Amen.
Filed under A time to cry | Comments (3)winded
Hello internet! I have missed you. I’ve even written to you many times. The problem is that it was always in my head at 3AM during a recent bout with insomnia. Come morning, all of my elegant words faded with the daylight.
I’m just going to be straight up with you. It has been a tough start to the year. There has been a lot of joy and laughter but also an off balance amount of yucky stuff. The kids have been sick for nearly 2 months now. They’ve been alternating the flu, colds, ear infections and every other contagious germ that blew by them on the breeze. Right now we are towards the end of a particularly rough bout with the flu. I’ve done more laundry in the last week than the entire month previous. I have to ask: why do my children only seem to throw up in the middle of the night, after they have consumed blueberries or chocolate on the cream coloured carpet that lies UNDER the bucket and towel I carefully laid by their bedside?
In the midst of doling out antibiotics, liberal hugs and fresh piles of laundry, I’ve been struggling. I have been feeling really sad, unmotivated, agitated, obsessive yet entirely lazy, unattractive and lonely . Great combination, no? Last Monday I FINALLY realized the cycle I was in and decided to do something about it. Life is about making good choices. It’s up to me whether I see the beauty that surrounds me, whether I embrace the good stuff that is always there and whether the bloody dishes get done of not.
Tuesday morning I started mission PULL MYSELF UP BY MY BOOTSTRAPS and get on with the good stuff. A large part of my plan was to get more sleep, some time to myself and to work hard on my photography so I can get the business that swims inside my head going. Yeah Tuesday! It was hard with a feverish, clingy baby but I was gonna do it. Oh yes I was!
And then Wednesday came. It was one of those days that conspires against you from the minute you wake up. A day where you have to laugh or you will break down and cry. I shook my fist at Wednesday and gave it a swift kick in the butt. Right until supper time when the tables got turned and I got the wind knocked out of me. Picture me at 5PM chatting with the kids, helping Tuck with his spelling words, holding Mr. Baby, stir frying some delicious smelling curry… Mr. T came into the kitchen and asked me to come upstairs and talk to him. I laughed and told him I was a tad busy so he’d have to talk to me in the kitchen or wait. He asked me to come up as soon as I could and then disappeared back into his office. Thinking nothing of it, I added the coconut milk to the curry and then dashed upstairs to find out what he needed while it simmered. “Tell me quick, I need to get back to dinner,” I said as I walked into the room. I don’t remember his exact words but it was something along the lines of, “um, so it looks like I might not have a job in 6-8 weeks”. I’m pretty sure I heard a needle ripping along a record as he said that. HUH? I felt a strong sense of dejavu and a whole lot of nausea. And then I ran back to the kitchen so dinner didn’t burn! Mr. T followed me and tried to answer as I fired question after question at him. And then we stood hugging in the middle of the kitchen while our kids played around us and the curry simmered on the stove wondering what on earth we were going to do.
We still don’t quite know but there is a plan percolating. And there is peace that God will provide as he always has. That things will be ok even if we don’t know what they will look like right now.
What I want to remember about this experience is the many blessings we’ve already encountered. That even when it’s hard, life can be lived joyfully. That everyday brings with it the choice to embrace that day and all that it brings or to be smothered by it. That love matters more than anything else. And specifically:
* The love our family and friends have showered on us. Feel supported? Check!
* My littlest guy clinging to me, arms wrapped around my neck, head resting on my shoulder muttering, “mama, mama, mama” over and over. Sometimes (ok, all the time if you are Mr. Baby) only Mama can make it right.
* On the weekend we told the kids that there are probably going to be some changes at Daddy’s work and that we’re going to have to cut down on our spending to save some extra money. Tuck goes, “I’ve got lots of money in my piggy bank. I can go get it and give it to you to put in your bank account if you want”. We both teared up and told him that was very sweet but that Mommy and Daddy’s bank account is ok and that he doesn’t need to worry about it. He replied, “ok but if you ever need it you can just let me know and I’ll give it all to you. No problem at all”. That kid SLAYS me.
* Perspective. Beauty came into our room at 2am last Wednesday night (hours after the bomb got dropped) and proceeded to throw up for the rest of the night. Thursday night Tuck kept us up most of the night with his version of the flu and then slept through his family birthday party the next evening. Saturday night Mr. Baby barfed himself senseless and required 2 baths during the night. He has not eaten since then and continues to empty himself into his pants (and socks!) multiple times a day. Bad timing? A bit but really, it all just reminds me that what matters in my life is our family. No matter how crazy things get, those kids keep us grounded and cognizant of what is important.
* I am thankful to have a loving God who is steady and unchanging. Not everyone believes that but to me, it’s real and I am so glad.
* I haven’t really cried over this whole thing. I think I was too shocked at first and then mad and then too focused on moving forward to bother. I did have a brief moment last Friday when Tuck told me his school shoes don’t fit him anymore and that he needed some new ones. Normally I would say sure, add it to my list and go buy him some new ones. Suddenly, I’m not sure if we can afford to spend the money, where I should buy them, how much I should spend. It really sucked to feel like I might not be able to get my kids something they need so I cried on Mr. T’s strong shoulder and then prayed about it. The next day my good friend the pedorthist called to tell me she’s going to hook our kids up with running shoes for the spring. So COOL (and humbling).
So that’s my update! How are things with you?
Filed under A time to cry, Blessed, Family | Comment (1)the tile is taking on a crazy kind of shine
Have you ever heard of anyone having a nervous breakdown in their sleep or may I be the first to claim that honour? People, I’m telling you, I woke up on the wrong side of crazy this morning. My brain, it don’t work no more.
I’m not sure if it was 160something nights in a row of awake-asleep-awake-asleep-awake-asleep-awake-asleep-awake-asleep-awake-asleep or the 2am I bumped my finger this afternoon and now it needs a kissy cry or the hideous, hideous smells wafting from the other side of the bed an unidentified source that did me in. All I know is that I feel off balance today. Quite fragile. Teary. And rather skoots, if you will (and I think you will or I will weep at you). Pretty much, I can’t deal anymore. I’z done right in.
When I put the baby down for a nap, I did the only that seemed reasonable to me at the time. I emptied everything out of the back hallway that leads to the garage, laundry room et al and scrubbed it until it shone. Nothing makes a crazy person feel a whole lot more balanced than grout you can feed your kids a snack on. Now when I have 32 loads of laundry lined up in the hallway, I can rest in the knowledge that it is sitting on very sparkly tiles.
Filed under A time to cry, Me, me, me, me | Comment (0)Lost: sanity, patience and sense of humour. Reward if found.
Yesterday afternoon I had a moment where I swear I felt my brain snap like a rubber band. N was whimpering because he was feeling (understandably) crappy, G was fake crying because her lego tower fell over and that made her throat hurt and then her mean Mommy wouldn’t let her have ice cream or a popsicle and baby J was crying because someone burnt toast in China and it upset him. All of a sudden my overload buttons started flashing and I wanted to run out of our house and hide for a week.
Most of the time I can roll with the chaos that is our life but every now and then it becomes too much and something needs to give. We have been so busy lately and as I look forward to the rest of the month it only gets busier. It’s all good stuff but it’s too much when combined together. Kind of like a chocolate lava cake. I love them warm from the oven with a little whipping cream or ice cream but if you layer on both plus chocolate sauce and raspberry coulis, it turns something delicious into a diabetic coma.
I’m not usually one to moan to everyone I talk to about how tired I am and how much things suck (unless someone who gets 10 hours of sleep a night complains to me about how exhausted they are… then I might snap a little and make sarcastic comments). I tend to go more into bull dozer mode and just try to plow through everything. I get more focused and my sense of humour vanishes like dark chocolate when I’m PMSing. Just get ‘er done! Everyone clears a path for me when I get like this. I don’t mean to be so intense. I just don’t know how to deal with it all and maintain my June Cleaver manners.
Right now I am overwhelmed. I can’t tell you how sick I am of being pawed at, drooled on, hung off of and whined to at all hours of the day and night. The neediness of my children, the little favours people are asking me to do for them and the mounting tasks that need to be done for Christmas (which is another post in itself… the level of insanity Christmas has reached) are making me go crazy. I just want to organize my fruit cellar for once and for all so I can find something when I need it. Is that too much to ask?
Probably more than anything I am so overwhelmed by how things have gone with baby J. At first we thought he was a laid back kid. He slept well and ate like a champ. He still eats like a champ (all day and all night) but everything else has changed. He doesn’t sleep well. He is very sensitive and temperamental. Loud noises bother him. He doesn’t like change, chaos, new people etc. etc. He likes it best when he is alone with Mommy being held at an 87.2 degree angle. I never know what is going to upset him. Maybe it’s his teeth? Maybe he’s got gas? Maybe someone in Germany dropped a beer stein and it scared him? I am sick of feeling like I need to make excuses for why he is crying this time. I wish that he would let other people hold him more often. I wish he didn’t scream so much. I wish I felt like I could put him down to cry for a bit but it just makes him scream louder and takes more effort later. I really wish I could enjoy more of my time with him and that I had more time to spend with my other two kids. I wish I got more sleep and that things were easier. I love this baby so much. He is delightful and wonderful. I love his smiles and sweet little baby coo’s. I love his fat thighs, chubby toes and sparkly blue eyes. I even love that he is sensitive and very much his own person. I really don’t want to change him, I just want to know how to be his Mommy in a way that doesn’t suck the marrow from my bones.
Filed under A time to cry, Me, me, me, me | Comment (0)muddy water
Lately I have been reading Tracy Thompson’s book, “The Ghost in the House”, on maternal depression and have found it facinating and informative. It has been a serious wake up call to me and has clenched my heart several times. I’ve learned so much about myself that I didn’t realize. Like how long I’ve struggled with depression and haven’t realized it, that just because I tend to bite people’s heads off and hyperventilate rather than hide in bed with the covers over mine, that my struggle is still called “depression”, that the tapes I play over and over in my head about my body image, my self-worth, my need to be perfect, my “all or nothing” mentality, the guilt, the failure etc come from a depressed mindset not a fatally flawed person, that my craving for carbs when I’m down makes sense (as does the subsequent guilt and vomitous feeling I get when I look at my butt in the mirror) and finally, that I am not alone.
I have been trying so hard to feel better but it is just not working. I’ve been doing all the things that I know how to cope but nothing lifts that black cloud of irritation and anxiety. I am lonely. I am overcome with a general sense of my complete inability to seemingly do anything well. I doubt my friends. I question my husbands motives. I am profoundly comforted and madly overwhelmed by my children. I can’t stand my dog. I hate the clutter in my house and feel like I am just not a good enough housewife. I know that I am a good mom to my kids but I drown in the guilt that I don’t do enough, play enough, have playdates enough… I just want to feel as though I have gone through a day knowing that I did my best and that it was good.
I don’t know how to feel better when all I want to do is lie on the couch in silence. I don’t want to get anyone “juice and water”, I don’t want to read, I don’t want to do laundry, make supper, do the dishes, clean the pooh left on the side of the toilet by a little girl who just couldn’t stay put, direct the kids to pick up the toys in the playroom, chase the dog around the kitchen table like an idiot trying to get a freaking pull up away from her. I DON’T WANT TO DO IT ALL but I am the Mom so I do it all because if I don’t, who will?
Lord, in your Word you promised you wouldn’t give me more than I can handle. This feels like too much. Up to this sentence I’ve had to comfort one child twice, get water for another and then fold myself into a toddler bed, have snot bubbles blown on my cheek and grubby fingers shoved in my mouth by a third (thankfully the fouth child settled into sleep as soon as he was in Mommy’s bed with the covers pulled way up). Is there healing power in snot that I was not aware of? Do you want me to feel better by giving to others? I told the first one that he is special and that I love him very much, I told the second that I am glad he is here today and later I held my little girl and prayed for her. I am good to the kids. I have given and they have drank deeply from my well. It’s just that they are never satisfied and the well is running dry. How do I quench their thirst with muddy water? I feel that is all I have to offer right now, muddy water.
Filed under A time to cry, Me, me, me, me | Comment (0)an open letter
To my children:
I love you two georgeous children! You really do make my heart happy. You delight me with your quirky little comments and funny ways of looking at the world. You make me smile at unexpected moments and you hug me right when I need it. Thank you.
Here’s the thing though: you also drive me a bit nuts. It’s about the getting up at 7am and ringing those annoying Kindermusik bells that I’ve grown to hate so much. It’s about the sheer volume you are able to maintain for what appears to be endless hours. And can we please talk about hanging on the curtains one last time? Enough already! There just has to be a few minutes in the day where you are quiet (and not making a mess in your steath way) so that my poor aching head can rest for a moment. So let’s just agree to some calm and some better listening and our days will go a lot more smoothly. Sanks!
To my dog:
You are cute and cuddly and I really like it when you lay on my feet and keep them warm. I love your brown eyes and the way you flop on your side so we can rub your belly. You are a good friend to my kids and I know that when you grow out of this puppy phase that you will be an awesome companion.
I have to be honest and tell you that I thought about dog stir fry for supper tonight. Enough grabbing food off the counter, biting the damn throw cushions on the couch, chewing up shoes and favourite toys (I might go a wee bit Captain Insaino on you if you touch The Girl’s baby again) and barking at every moving thing that goes by. You are driving me totally crazy. I’d like to have you in the house more and pet you lots more but I just can’t stand being around you right now. So let’s agree that you’ll settle down a bit and you can hang out with us more. Mmmkay?
To the mess in my house:
I have nothing good to say to you. You clutter every nook and cranny of my home and my mind. You fill space in my overwhemed brain that really just needs a little zen now and zen (ha!). You confront me in the morning, laugh at me over lunch time and wake me up late at night. You’ve gotten seriously out of hand in the “office” and appear to be preparing to stage a coup under the microwave. You drive me nuts and to be frank, I hate you. So just go away and stay away. Thanks in advance.
To my new vacuum:
I love you. Thanks for being here and for sucking such unbelievable amounts of crap out of my carpets. We are all much better for your recent arrival. If you weren’t so awkwardly shaped I just might hug you.
To the noise in my head:
Shut up, shut up, shut up! Enough said.
To my husband:
I love you best of all. You are warm and safe and you make me feel calmer. The best part of my day is lying in the spot listening to your heart beat (one small complaint: does it have to beat so loud?). Thanks for trying to help and understand.
So about this weekend… How would you like to take the kids away for the day on Saturday so I can get some stuff done and have a bit of a reprieve from humans less than 4 feet tall? I’m thinking dinosaurs? Lemmeno.
Yours truly,
Rachel
Filed under A time to cry, Family | Comment (0)poem
Dark clouds descend
ominous
heavy
floating but weighing down
I run, flee
I hide
yet it comes
my eyes close
Dark clouds descend
block the sun
the light
my reason to awake
Surrounded
I try
overcome
my eyes close
Dark clouds descend
no bright light
to warm
my cold and tired heart
Giving up
again
tomorrow?
my eyes close