Speaking Out

I ended a relationship last night.  One I'd ended before and gone back to multiple times.  The relationship was abusive and volatile and unhealthy.  But it was hard to get away.  And yet, I woke up this morning feeling free. Feeling something I have not experienced in a great while: serenity.

The relationship I speak of was with Facebook.  For months, now, I've been allowing a social media website to steal my peace.  To instill fear and confusion.  And anger.  The agitation of late that has been consistently growing has not been of the I'm-spending-too-much-time-looking-at-people's-food/vacations/cat memes-and-therefore-wasting-my-day variety.  I sort of long for those good ol' days in a way.  No, what I'm talking about is the type of angst that has arisen out of the fact that the political climate has changed so drastically and so quickly in our society and that this has become evidenced on my Facebook account.  I can only speak for my experience with my own page.

I have a friend who for as long as I can remember would deactivate her account and then reactivate. She would explain that when she was on, she just felt pulled into debate and then wound up feeling discouraged and disheartened. I couldn't understand this until recently. There is no denying the disunity that is present in our culture today.  We are one year away from an election but the unrest has been swelling for some time now.  People seem to be more divided than ever on all numbers of issues. This, in and of itself, is not a problem.  In fact, as a democracy, we need differing points of views. We need debate.  We need voices to be heard from all angles of any given subject.  But, herein lies the trouble. This isn't happening.  Many are being silenced.  Many are being ridiculed.

I am not sure if I happened to be friends with an inordinate amount of people who believed differently than I, or if those who share my beliefs were simply quieter.  I suspect it may be the latter.  Personally, I will admit to being silent too much of the time.  It seemed easier.  I don't like conflict.  I've come to a point in my life where I don't believe I change either individuals or entities.  I can only change myself.

But over the past several months, there has been an indignation stirring up inside me.  Daily, on my newsfeed, I was reading not just articles, or memes, or viewpoints that stood in stark opposition to my own belief system, but was faced with articles, memes and viewpoints that were insulting, inflammatory, and hateful in their onesidedness.  Everywhere I turned was journalism that was clearly an opinion piece written and presented as fact, 'studies' that shamed the way I choose to raise my children, attacks on the God I believe in, and then of course, Facebook being what it is, I was privy to all sorts of personal disagreements that had nothing to do with me among "friends." And I've observed over the months a pattern.  I've seen time and again, within the comments section of friends' posts, tension arise and it culminates in the same way.  Someone is publicly defriended or silenced.  And noticing this as it happens to others, I've felt increasingly uncomfortable.  I've begun to wonder what happened to the era where we believed firmly in freedom of speech; where we not only accepted it but embraced it.  It's important to note that the tension I referred to was merely discussion.  An opposing viewpoint brought up with respect.  And yet, quickly, the dissenter was dismissed and rejected.

Now, this could very well be exclusively the dynamic on my own page.  Other people's feeds could be full of those who are open-minded and thoughtful in their assertions yet humble and polite.  I don't know.  What I do know is that my own experience played out again and again and I watched and bit my own tongue and read and vented my dissidence to my husband where it was safe rather than in a public format, but finally last night my tongue began to bleed.

A "friend" posted an article which I read and which upon reading had a strong reaction to. The piece was a strong opinion piece and in turn, my opinion reading it was strong.  And I responded with my opinion on the article itself.  And I was careful to speak only of the author's viewpoint and to express what I feel are the problems with that viewpoint.  And within a matter of minutes, the "friend" who had posted the article deleted my comment.  And that would be fine if this was an isolated event.  But it's not.

And now I cannot hold my anger back or bite my tongue.  Because over and over again, I'm seeing it. I am witnessing one "side," if you will, continually silence the other.  And it's working.  There is a "side" who has grown fearful.  Who fears to stir things up, to speak their truth, to call out what they see as wrong, because those who disagree, disagree in a domineering and threatening manner.

The "friend" who deleted my comment, did so with a comment of his own, stating that I needed to post my views on my own page, not his.  And then in his next post, he personally attacked my Christianity. Now, mind you, I had said nothing in my response of my religious beliefs.  Nothing. This is what I feel we're up against. I feel strongly that this epitomizes how many today operate when others don't agree with them.  They have nothing in their vocabulary to defend their own views, so the viciously attack their opposition.  And it works.  To avoid being spat on, we just shut up.  Everything has been spun, so that we appear to be the perpetrators.  And this is how it happens.  This is how an entire faction of society begins to be eliminated.  It's happening on a much bigger scale, of course, than my very small Facebook page.  It's just that this was the first time I felt it so intimately.

I did not deactivate my account because of this interaction.  It's been something I've been inwardly struggling with and this was my final motivation.  Do I believe I need to stand strong and stand my ground and own my own voice and truth? Yes.  But right now, I need to do so while in prayer, unswayed by the noise of the enemy.  I do that here.  I cannot, currently, do it there.

This blog has always been a prayer closet for me.  One that I've visited less and less.  But I return to it now because I still need to hear myself pray aloud as I grapple with God over words while I'm here.  It's how He and I have done things for a while.  And partly, I'm doing it here in order to not be silenced.  I don't care if just one person comes across it and I don't care whether they agree or disagree with it, the important thing is that there has to be an outlet where I do not feel silenced.  Where I do not feel like what I have to say is not valid.

When Life Becomes "Complicated"

I think, often, about how my two younger children have not, overall, received as much attention from me as the older two. It wouldn't be too hard to blame this on the idea that the more children there are, the less of mom there is to go around.  It's a valid argument.  Four children vying for attention instead of two, absolutely  requires more conscious effort and creativity.  It's true, also, that a brood of children have a tendency to somewhat entertain each other and yet, I know that they need individual attention.  I try to shoot for this.  I take them out alone, in their turn, when I can but not as much as I'd like.

Sometimes it makes me sad to think back to the days when the older two were younger, when it was just them.  I remember when True was in preschool and I only had Annika at home.  She and I had our little routine.  We read stories, worked puzzles, drew together. Further back than that, as a young mother, when it was only True, he and I spent endless quality time together.  Less stress and perhaps, more motherly enthusiasm meant that I dedicated hours to teaching him, playing with him and just being silly with him.  We used to sing in front of the mirror together, using hairbrushes as microphones.

I feel sad thinking about this because so much of that, the younger two have missed out on.  And when I really analyze it, although amount of children plays in, the fact is- life was simpler then.

Confession: I'm not merely distracted by four kids running in four directions.  I'm now way too easily distracted by technology. Blogging, Facebook, online school, texting.  None of this was in my life when the older two were younger.  And I might have been a better mom.

Sitting in the parking lot of True and Annika's school yesterday, waiting the fifteen minutes it takes for them to be delivered to me, Palin asleep, Verity chatted in my ear while I checked my email on my phone.  As if there might be anything that important.  But I opened A Holy Experience and read about the practice of relationship.  And it occurred to me that right now, I could spend that time with Verity.  So I did.  We played hangman. And not on my phone (though I was tempted).

This is a practice.  It's so easy to 'multi-task' to the point of losing sight of these brief moments when children are young. The now moments.  These moments when they want to be with us.  I don't want to look back and realize that this time has passed.  Will I remember any one email I opened up or anyone's status update on Facebook?  Probably not.  But the essence of time spent listening or playing with my kids- that I want to remember.  I need to practice ignoring the lure of phone notifications, these false demands, all that's far less important than just being.  Just being available and present when I'm with my children.  Practicing that which used to come easier.  Practicing because it no longer comes easy.  Practicing to get back to that place.

Source: wordcandy.me via Nicole on Pinterest

My job

Confession:  (This is a huge one)

I've been resenting my kids lately.  That's terrible, I know. God forgive me.  It's the truth.

I've been restless, irritable and discontent. Denying the fact, for weeks, that I want more time to myself, less mess in my life, less kid chaos, maybe even less time with them, entertaining the fantasy of putting the older two in school. So I could have more me time.

Yes, these thoughts would crop up and I would hush them, not even wanting to admit them to myself. And I would drudge through another day, not giving my children my best.

And then last night, as I lay in bed, this feeling of incredible and huge gratitude came over me.  Unparalleled gratitude for my children.  The reminder that they are gifts, pure and simple. And that I have been called to raise them, lovingly and to put in my best efforts.  And that right now, this is my job.  Because it is a job.  But it's a job I'm blessed to have.

And I was thinking, too, about how my life used to feel so much simpler.  A lot of things went into that but part of what's different is the amount of time spent on my writing.  Though I love it, though I know it, too, is God given, it also takes a lot out of me.

Laying in bed, I remembered how when the first two were young we had all day at home together, and so much got done around the house, as well as in them, in their own personal growth.  More than I feel they've been receiving from me lately.  More than the two little ones have maybe ever received.

And back then I wasn't blogging.  The internet ten years ago, also did not seem to consume me like it does now.  I hardly remember using the computer at that time.  Finally, I wasn't working on any writing project.

And life seemed nice.  So, I made the decision to, for a period, even if only for a few weeks, put all my writing on hold. I have a long life ahead of me and there will be plenty of time to pursue certain goals in the future but my children will not be the ages they are now for long.  And I want to pour more of me into them.  I want to stop holding back parts of me for me.  I want to have more time just to play with them, to work on chores while they work on workbooks.  I just want to find a bit more ease in the now that we are in.

 I know it looks like I haven't been blogging much anyway.  But that doesn't mean that my mind hasn't been on the blog.  There's a pressure I place on myself even when I don't actually make it here.  So I'm lifting that for now.  I'm going to try to recreate a bit of the old days.  Days when I was still in total awe of my children and days when I didn't want it all.  Days when I knew that I needn't strive and I understood that God had me right where He wanted me to.

Days that were less about me and more about them.



submitting at Weekend Reflections

I am one of those people who has wondered if I should blog since the day I started blogging.

And now, in the new year, I am maybe more unsure than I've ever been.

My life circumstances have changed and though I walk in grace, I don't feel entirely sure that this grace will flow from my fingertips quite as well during this season....if that makes sense.  Because though there is the light, there are more moments of darkness that I deal with on a daily basis now. And I'm afraid that might bleed out.

So, I am in a waiting period.  On a lot of issues.  And I am focusing on one day at a time.

November Looming

I'm wondering what November's going to look like for me.

I still feel conflicted on the subject of blogging every day.  In a certain sense I feel a little free when I let a day go by without coming here.  But then I grow inexplicably worried that if I don't write here every day something will happen.  What, I don't know.

I did have a clarifying realization recently: blogging is something I've really been able to stick with, without growing bored.  Yes, I've experienced days of burn out or frustration and even writer's block but not boredom.

This is a big deal because my interest does wane easily.  Case in point, the paper mache flowers I was so gung ho on making Thursday night, which have been laying unfinished and untouched ever since.  I'll get back around to it someday.  Maybe.  The point is, that often I start out excited about a project or an undertaking and I enter in full force only to lose my desire half-way through.  Not so with blogging.  So I wonder, does this mean I should be doing it? Or is 'should' not even an appropriate word? And then I come across things like this:

and it resonates.

  But too, I need to look at Ann Voskamp's Blogger's Prayer, often.

And now November is here.  Which means what? It means that with Thanksgiving, two of the children have birthdays, I start a new class tomorrow....and I'm signed up for NaNoWriMo.

K.D. Storm describes it as, "NaNoWriMo is where somewhat sane people come together in November to write a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. There is no spell check, editing, or any other form of polishing. It is writing at its purest form. The whole idea is to sit in the chair and write until your heart is content (or you succumb to madness). "

A whole new exciting problem project!

 I was pretty positive that I'd at least give it a shot this year.  Until I saw the math. 50,000 words in one month equals close to 1700 words per day.  Per day.  With school papers and blogging?  And kids and life?  And housework and homeschooling and husband care?  Hmmm.

But, I gotta give it a go.  There's a good chance that by November 2nd, I'll have come to my senses.  Then I'll just try again next year. I'm pretty sure there's no penalty for repeated attempts.

And so, it will be interesting to see what November brings.

Writing Helps

I may not be able to stay away.  Yes, the obsessiveness may just be too much.

I think I have a fear that if I don't write, I'll forget how.

I'm sure I won't really forget but there is something to be said about staying in flow.  Staying in practice.  In times past, when I've abandoned writing, it has been hard to pop back in.  But on the flip side there's the issue of just not always having something to say....or at least something appropriate to say.  Because I always have a million thoughts racing around, it's just that they're not all edifying.

And then, too, I feel an urge to write for a purpose.  A reason.  To let God speak through me.  For whoever He chooses.

Because there's so much sadness, so much misunderstanding, and so many people who need to hear, in this world.  And writing helps me to hear.

submission for just write  

The way that I should go

This weekend I met with a bit of unexpected freedom.  I was too busy to blog.  And I was okay with that.

"You're only here for a short visit. Don't hurry. Don't worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way." - Walter Hagen

I know that sounds silly but because of my somewhat obsessive nature, I had placed this regulation upon myself months ago that I would blog every day.   I make up imaginary rules for myself, sewing patterns of  pointless, restrictive routine.  Taking the fun and the good out of it all.

I haven't figured out what all prompts me into these sort of actions but I'm guessing it has to do with some need for control.  And perfection.  And that perfection drive was dealt with these last couple days as well.  Trying to calculate my final grade for the class I'm in, I realized that I'd forgotten to turn in two homework assignments two weeks ago.  I had completed the assignments but never submitted them.  Fifteen points in the class gone.  My 4.0 wiped out.  And, yeah, that's a bummer.  But I think there's a lesson there.  Striving for perfection is just plain stupid.  I'm not perfect.  And why do I need to be?  What is a 4.0 going to matter in Heaven?  Or even in life for that matter?  Why do I add worries and requirements and rules to my life that God doesn't?

At times (many times) by brain seems to feed off chaotic, flitting and compulsive thoughts.

My soul and my body do not.

And so I'm choosing to take heed what God taught me this weekend.  To slow down, to take off all that hinders, to let the Spirit rather than the flesh lead.

And this means my blogging may be spotty.  So what.  Nothing depends on it.  I will come here but only as the Spirit leads.


"Let me know the way that I should go,
   because I long for you...Teach me to do your will, because you are my God.
May your good Spirit lead me on level ground.." Psalm 143: 8,10


"...let us throw off everything that hinders..." Hebrew 12:1






playdates with God, the creative exchange, capturing beauty my perspective

Night Writing

I'm trying to blog at night then post it in the day.

 I'm not sure it's working for me.  I type now and lack that usual sense of place.  That rush I'd get from taking my time out during the day, away from the kids, aiming for the higher.

But it seems I've been too busy and things that shouldn't be are falling by the wayside.  So, I'm trying this night time writing.

The kids should have been in bed forty minutes ago.  My husband should have been home two hours ago.

Instead, the kids are frosting cupcakes with my dad overseeing.  I passed it off so I could come here.

So maybe this isn't working either.

By this time of day my brain is getting mushy.  I'm ready for silence and relaxation.  I can't tap rightly into that area I need to be in for writing.

But...there is bending with life.  Rearranging.  Trials.  So, we shall see what happens.

Communal Global

Busy

"Humanity will always love Rousseau for having confessed his sins, not to a priest, but to the world...."
-Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

John-Jacques Rousseau, not Henri Rousseau.  I had to clear that up for myself so thought I'd clarify.

This is a quote from a piece I had to read as part of my homework this week.  I thought it fit aptly in my blog.  And sadly, I will not have a lot of blogging time this week.  My instructor for this class is asking for two papers a week now and Mayo Clinic is under the impression that I'd like to spend multiple full days at their facility.  So....a lot of un-fun stuff.  But I'll at least check in daily.