fear and trembling

i am scheduled to speak at my church this coming sunday. i actually asked for this opportunity, but am now re-thinking that silly little request. the thought of getting up in front of everybody and talking for an extended period of time scares the sh*t out of me. seriously.

but then i remember why i asked to do this. here are some of my words from an email i wrote pertaining to my request:

"over the past 5 - 6 years, god has been calling me out. out of fear, out of shame, out of feelings of worthlessness and uselessness, out of my self-protective sin. calling me to step into the unique woman that he dreamed me into existence to be. and so, these days i am "working out my salvation" by recognizing and using my particular voice (which was silenced for far too many years); by living out my particular calling; and by gathering up my courage and obeying the voice of the spirit of god within me. so, the opportunity to speak would be redemptive for me, and i believe that when god is doing his redemptive, restorative work, he intends for the spiritual community to share in it."

oh, for the sweet love of god. [she said with great fear and trembling.]

i welcome your prayers.

actually. . .

seth this morning: "actually, mommy, i don't want to be a doctor when i grow up. i want to be a surfer."

after what was to him an absolutely thrilling career day at kindergarten, wyatt has decided that he wants to be a scientist who works with chemicals.

energy

i was talking on the phone today to the wise and beautiful woman who is my mentor, and i was telling her about what has been happening in my soul recently (see previous post). she commiserated with me, said she has dealt with something similar these past days.

she said it this way: "something or someone has laid claim to the energy of my soul, and i have cooperated."

exactly.

everything's the worst

i spent most of monday, after a disappointing and difficult weekend, raging against the machine that is my life. monday is the day seth and i do various errands and go to walmart to get groceries for the week. the amount of time and energy this seemingly simple task takes is absolutely obscene, especially when you are dealing with a four-year-old who is on steroids for medical purposes. i felt like my whole morning was shot; that, in fact, the entire world was conspiring against me to keep me from doing the things that i really wanted to do by keeping me busy with endless, inconsequential tasks, like getting groceries for my family so we have food to eat and cleaning my home so that we don't live in a complete pig sty and doing laundry so my children will have clean clothes to wear. I was all but shaking my fist at the sky.

i finally wore myself out, and in my worn out state, i was able to get a tiny bit of clarity. clearly, something else was going on.

i'm realizing that i've been over-extending, over-committing myself these past couple of months. you may know this about me, but i am not a person who thrives on lots of activity and social events. i thrive on simplicity, and i have lost my way this fall.

it's amazing how often i fall victim to the lie that to be a valued member of society (and--dare i say it--the church), one has to step onto the hamster wheel of endless activity. especially since i'm a stay-at-home mom. i mean, really, what else do i have to do? aren't my days full of lying on the couch and eating bon bons? and i did think when wyatt started kindergarten this fall and seth started back to preschool three mornings a week that wow! i have so much time now! not so, my friend. not so.

i will spare you further details of my angst. this i know: i want to live with simplicity. i want to remember that it is a sacred thing to create meals for my family, to wash their clothes, to make the beds. it is a sacred thing to carve out time and space to play with my children rather than toss them the scraps of my attention. it is a sacred thing to have energy to give to my husband and to nurture our relationship. it's okay--and necessary!--to take the time to nurture my own inner life, by which i mean my spiritual life.

As Anne Lamott writes, "'no' is a complete sentence." i'm going to start saying it more.

today

seth: when i grow up, i'm going to be a super hero. or maybe just a doctor.

revolutions

how is it that the revolutions
and the rotations
of the earth are speeding up?
wasn't it just yesterday
that i cradled these boys of mine
in my arms?
now i lift their sturdy frames
and something catches in my lower back;
i carry them and their legs
hang down to my knees.
wasn't it just yesterday
that their little feet
fit inside the palm of my hand?
their feet are still small,
comparatively speaking,
but now they call to mind
the feet of a large puppy,
maybe a great dane
or a st. bernard.

my boys have not stopped lifting
their tear-stained faces
to me for comfort;
they have not stopped opening
their arms wide-spread to be held.

sometimes when i'm doing the
simplest of things with them--
walking outside as day
draws to an end,
pouring a cup of milk,
tying a shoe,
washing dirty smudges off a face--
time stops.
i am filled with the knowledge that
this
moment
this
season
so precious beyond language,
will pass,
will fade away
like smoke from a bright-burning fire,
and soon i will not be
their sun anymore.

the long experience of love

the impermanence of things is where my mind goes these autumn days. i watch the leaves change their colors one day and then fall to the ground on what seems like the next. the end of something is near.

specifically for me, i've been pondering how quickly my boys are growing up, how this particular season of their childhood will be over before i know it, and how heartbreaking it is to let go bit by bit of something i can never hold on to, no matter how desperately i try.


i read this last night by rainer maria rilke:

. . .Ah, but what can we take along
into that other realm? Not the art of looking,
which is learned so slowly, and nothing that happened here. Nothing.
The sufferings, then. And, above all, the heaviness,
and the long experience of love, --just what is wholly
unsayable.