A Little Honesty For the Here and Now

Ohhh, folks. Do you ever have those days when you are all out of sorts, more than tired, and simply down on yourself? I had one of those afternoons yesterday. The bummer was that it fell after a lovely morning when I had breakfast by myself at Corner Bakery and spent time delighting in a passage from the Bible. Those kinds of mornings are very rare (I had a client cancellation) and I thought that the rest of the day would be as blissful and sweet.

It wasn't.

By last night I began to recognize some depressing thoughts. I had gone from a feeling of contentment to the belief that I was a bad wife, mother, counselor and friend. I had a long list of phone calls, both work-related and personal, that I had yet to return. I felt overwhelmed by the idea that, "I'm letting everyone down." I forgot to baste the chicken breasts and they were dry after being grilled. "I'm a terrible cook - Russ must get so tired of my lack of creativity in the kitchen." I was bone-tired and had decided to miss a standing girl's night where I receive both accountability and true friendship. "They are going to be mad at me - they're going to think I don't really care about them."

And sometimes I read over other blogs that I typically enjoy and suddenly find myself comparing my life to the lives of these other women (who I don't know, don't share life with) ...and I end up feeling terrible. How do they have the time to have beautiful gardens, impromptu photo sessions with their children that look professional, the latest fashions, decorating skills, sewing "how-to's" and homemade recipes? Why do I feel so pitifully crappy in comparison?

See? I told you I was in a bad headspace.

I came across this poem here today.

Song for a Fifth Child.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

(by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton)

It caught my breath a little. Tears sprang to my eyes. I felt validated. Because yesterday I made up a song for Davy and sang it to her and she laughed the whole way through. We took a walk and she babbled the whole time. I am choked up just thinking about the fact that she isn't comparing me to anyone else. I'm her Momma and I'm all she knows.

I have battled performance-driven Christianity for so long and I make my living showing people the way out of that madness. And yet here I am, blindsided by it again. What I mean by that is that it only takes a few hours for my thoughts to go from believing that my Savior has ransomed me from a belief that I have to work for His approval, for His love... to trying to earn it. He has given it to me freely and because it cost Him His very own life, He is hurt and offended when I attempt to prove myself to Him.

This little bit of honesty comes after posts upon posts of self-bragging, trying so hard to prove that I'm a cool, funny, intelligent person. Just being real, y'all. This train of thought probably appears a little jumbled and addled. That's okay. It only proves that I need my Savior badly - that I need His rescue from a world that judges me according to what I can DO, instead of Whose child I am.



(I put this photo on here for 2 reasons: One, because I am reminded that I don't love my mom for her cooking, cleaning, or any other motherly talent. I love her because she's my Momma! And two, so that you can see a little of the resemblance between D and I.)

Recession Proof Life

I've been thinking about ways to recession proof my life for awhile now. It began last Sunday while I was sitting in church. I was watching our pastor, Todd Wagner, while he was singing & worshiping. From high aloft in the upper right balcony, I could see Todd down on the floor off to the side, a little hard to see in the dark...but he was there, unaware of anyone watching him, rocking back and forth on his heels and singing with all his might. He had the happiest look on his face and I suddenly felt so thankful, so glad to know that he was enjoying himself while He was all caught up in thinking about God. That's when I began thinking about how it's possible to live with both peace and joy in the midst of this crazy economy and political atmosphere. Have you found yourself worrying lately about what is to come: whether you'll keep your job, find a new job, pay your rent, pay that bill, afford what is to come? I have.

In light of all of that, here are some of my thoughts and experiences about recession-proofing my life:

Get Healthy - Russ recently saw an alternative medicine doctor (thanks, McKeaiggs) about certain health problems he had been having, lack of energy being a big one. The doc put Russ on a wheat-free, dairy-free and soy-free eating plan and I've been following suit. We thought it would be tough. It really hasn't been. We're feeling good and losing weight. But the biggest benefit for me is that Russ' health is improving and we spend more time together cooking these days. Which leads me to the next idea...

Find a new wardrobe in your old closet - Okay, so one of the biggest reasons I enjoy my job is that I can wear jeans to work. In fact, good jeans are a staple of my life. I love designer jeans, unfortunately. And right now is just not a good time to go buy a new pair of jeans. But due to our new eating habits, I've lost ten pounds and, voila! I've been able to fit into three pairs of jeans that I hadn't worn since 2005! I've spent no money on clothes this year and am very proud of myself since I used to go shopping whenever I felt bored or anxious or insecure.

Plant a garden - This is also in line with our new healthy habits: I desperately want a garden in our backyard. One of our dear friends has been working on hers and has offered to help get us started. Planting from seeds is so incredibly cheap. And having fresh veggies in the backyard will keep me from ever walking into Whole Foods (or as I recently heard it called, "Whole Paycheck").

Turn off the television - Anyone who knows me well knows this is impossibly hard for me. I love tv and I love bad tv even more! But the tv keeps me from having meaningful conversations with my husband, keeps me from paying close attention to my little girl, keeps me from slowing down and listening to the Creator, and it actually influences me to spend more. When I lose an hour of my life watching (being honest here) "Real Housewives" on Bravo, I find myself thinking, "I do need to go get a new bookshelf for the study" or "I love those wineglasses I saw", etc, etc. I'm such an addict. So you out there, hold me accountable to this one, okay?

Get outside - See my progression here? Getting outside helps me get healthy, lose weight, work on a garden, get away from the tv...and for me it is crucial to reconnecting with the Father. I'm one of those people who feels closer to God when I am in nature. Not to mention that someone else in our house loves the outdoors as well...


Spend time around loved ones, especially children - Being around kids keeps my mind fresh in that I find myself seeing the world through their eyes; everything is new. Grab a favorite kid in your life and marvel at how amazing this old world can be. Sit in the backyard with your family. Talk. Tell stories. It's wonderfully rejuvenating.

Remember that your grandmother wouldn't have been scared of this Recession - In fact, since she was a child of the Great Depression, this would have been right up her alley. She knew how to make food go far - one time she tried to serve my baby brother the same bowl of Captain Crunch he hadn't finished the day before (she'd just put it in the fridge). She knew that the frayed edge of an old sofa just needed a nice doily atop it's arm. She wore the same bathing suit for about 35 years and when it's neckline began to sag, she simply sewed a handkercheif in to cover her ample bosom. She loved the simple things in life. Each night during the summer she would carry a cup of coffee out to the roof of the boating dock. When the moon would come up over the water she would exclaim as if on cue, "A path of diamonds...right to our door!" Gosh, thinking about the state of the world today really makes me miss her. She truly didn't sweat the small stuff. This might have been due to the fact that she prayed simple prayers all day long. She may have been a bit disconnected from the world at large but she was connected to the One Who makes it go round.

So back to that bucket of beer at the top of this post: Russ and I had decided to go to dinner last night to celebrate our anniversary. In the past we've spent quite a bit of money on a nice dinner, bottle of wine, the whole shabang. But we're trying so hard to save right now. So we had decided to skip the big deal and go somewhere inexpensive. It almost seems like every year we pull back a little more. I wanted to have a good attitude and I wanted to be the encouraging wife, like my grandmother was, not caught up in the entitlement & materialism that is so prevalent right now. But I was feeling sorry for myself. I went to go sit in the backyard and pray. "God, I need You to screw my head on straight today. I don't want to be a martyr, to feel self-pity and get caught up in the little things."

It was like God pulled me up by my shirt, popped me on the butt, said, "C'mon! You can do better than this!" and sent me back indoors. All I really wanted was to sit and talk to my husband, to ponder the past 3 years and remember how blessed we've been. So we went to Flying Fish and enjoyed a bucket of beer (we couldn't even finish 2), fish tacos, boiled shrimp and oysters on the half shell. There were kids everywhere and one very old lady decided to rest on her walker right in my personal space. But it was fun. And it was cheap. And that is good!

Would love to hear any of your thoughts on how you're surviving this economical climate, especially mentally and spiritually!

Coming Up For Air

I had an experience yesterday afternoon that made me want to write a little more in depth about my thoughts of late. As I was leaving work yesterday the sun was shining, people were jogging along the Katy Trail, and I had a flash of...dare I say it...simple happiness. Between the hours of 8 and noon I had gone grocery shopping, caught up with a coworker, sat in on a weekly meeting that I hadn't been to in 6 months, had an encouraging session with a client and had left the office feeling productive and like an active member of society. It felt like the clouds were parting.

For the past 5 months I have been laboring under what I could best describe as a cloud of fear. I am a very social person; an extrovert who is energized by relationships. I'm one of those people who, if it's possible, might have too many friends. It's a wonderful problem to have. But having Davy in August caused me to not just slow down but to completely halt my social life. I didn't really talk to people who weren't in my immediate family (unless I was calling Rachael with a breastfeeding question!). Folks would email or call...and I would just let it go. I was overwhelmed. I was sleep-deprived. I didn't know how to be me with such a lack of energy...or clean hair for that matter.

Like everyone else in this economic climate, I need to work. And it's a blessing to have work right now. But I was so fearful. I was straight scared about how to do this now dual role of mommy & therapist. I knew how to be a therapist...just not how to juggle it with what my life had become from August to December. Some good things came out of me living in a hole for 5 months: I've learned that I can't meet 50 people for coffee in a week. I've learned that nights at home with my baby and my husband make for a great night. I've learned that 7 hours of sleep is better than being able to afford a manicure. I've learned that Davy is a priority. If it's not good for her, it's just not good.

I also learned that I needed to get out of my fear and take the kid to a restaurant. If she cries, she cries. But it's worth it to have a real meal out in the real world. I gotta get back out there. I also learned that I can pour into the core people in my life and that they would sustain me. Aside from our families, Russ and I have been blessed with a handful of people with whom we share the whole kit & kaboodle of life. They know about our faults, our fights, our finances, even our sex lives. They are, for some reason, willing to walk through the mess and joy of this journey with us. Thanks, you.

So if you called or emailed in the past 5 months and thought, which part of the earth did Beck fall off of?, here's the explanation. But I'm doing good today. I sure hope I don't jinx it by talking about it but I feel really good.

The Bible describes God as "the lifter of my head" and that's exactly how I feel about Him right now. He has reached down and lifted my head and I am so grateful.

Stuff Rattling Around Up There

This just sort of stopped me cold the other night.


For a long time I had avoided reading an email in my inbox. It was from my church. My pastor had spent several Sundays talking about the Democratic Republic of Congo. I had skipped church. "10 new emails." Hmmm, not that one...I'll read it later.

I read it the other night. And now I feel like there is a thorn in my brain. I can't stop thinking about these women...about these children, these families. Please watch that video. It will probably upset you. I think it should.

I sent the link to quite a few folks the other night. One person responded. But her one response was like tossing a lit match into a tinderbox. She was UPSET. And it was all I needed to be pushed forward to do something. So I commit to do something.

More to come...

No One's Starving Around Here

I put this video here for two reasons: one, because some of my relatives only come here to see updates of Davy, and two, because it is vastly reassuring to me that my child isn't starving.

To explain that last part, I read Cormac McCarthy's The Road this week upon the urging of Rachael. What I didn't realize before I got into it was how gut-wrenchingly sad and depressing it would be and how I would lay awake at night worrying about the End of the World. Thanks, Rach. Seriously though, this book is the story of the apocalyptic journey of a man and his child across a devastated America. It's no Twilight - vampires being oddly soothing versus world destruction.

Really, I've been wanting to put into words for a long time how having a child has changed my worldview. I used to see things like news updates about a school collapse in Haiti and think to myself, "oh, too bad," and just go along with my day. I used to hear about economic crisis or pirates finding radioactive contents being shipped to Israel and respond with little interest or mild curiosity. I used to watch movies about the Holocaust and feel sad but nothing more.

And then everything changes when you have a baby asleep in the other room.

I watched two movies right after Davy was born that had me weeping and fretful: The Pianist and Hotel Rwanda. What struck me most was man's cruelty to man and the fear that I am raising a child in this world where these things really take place. And every forgotten child in those movies could be Davy to me. The first few weeks of motherhood are terribly scary for one major reason: I am responsible for this child. This means I feed, clothe, care for and sustain another human being. That feeling then begins to grow into deeper ones like: How will I raise this person to care about others? In what kind of nation will my child grow up? Will this little one have burdens that I cannot prepare them for?

So, while reading The Road, I began to think about the End of the World and all that is foretold. And I'm just glad that the chubby baby in the other room is okay today. Please don't feel you have to reassure me about the future, etc. Just needed to jot these old thoughts down!

Sanctuary

So yesterday afternoon I was in the shower and I found myself doing my usual shower routine. Not so much lather, rinse, repeat but more along the lines of fervently praying. I stopped in the middle of my prayers and realized that my time in the shower has been my place of prayer for at least the past year. I know it sounds crazy but it is around 10 minutes of truly alone time. It's quiet (without being too quiet). And something about the "ritual" of showering - you know, how you don't even consciously think about all the "tasks" you're performing - makes it easy for me to pray. My mind and heart just immediately jumps to it once I start the water running.

There are definitely other times during the day that I pray, one being when I'm up feeding D. at night. But I've sort of reserved that time to pray specifically for friends who are trying to get pregnant. I often say quick prayers at the computer when I get emails from our church's prayer website. There was a time in life when I prayed in my car an awful lot. But that was when I lived in Denton and worked in Highland Park. Those prayers were sometimes strewn with the cursings of road rage or the temptation to quit praying and tune back into Kidd Kraddick.

So I was just wondering, if you feel like it, where do you find yourself praying?

Why I Officially Will Never Run For Office

If me joining the blogosphere were to have a sound, it would sound a little like when you're sitting somewhere quietly and your tummy rumbles and makes a small moan. What do you do? You immediately clutch your stomach and dart your eyes sideways to see who might have heard. Did the person next to you think you farted*? Because you didn't! It was a tummy rumble! You blush and smile apologetically. Or maybe you don't. Maybe you cough or rub your shoe against your chair as if the shoe were the audible offender. But either way, it was an embarrassing sound, one that is small, only heard by a few, if any. That's what me blogging sounds like. I'm only joining the masses out of sheer time, boredom and thoughts in the night. That's right - at about 3:45 am while I am trying to fall back to sleep after the MON (mommybloggers will recognize my newfound lingo as "middle of the night") feeding, I think about what I would say on a blog were I to have a blog.

Not much.

So, if you want to join me here, please know I don't plan to post mighty monologues meant to inspire, or mass photos of my new baby (I can hear my mother cursing), or daily devotionals, or current event commentaries, or the newest fashion (unless the V-neck Haynes tee fits the boot), or hilarious stories about my life...although any one of those things might occasionally pop up. I'm just going to notch out a little place to put all my mental diarrhea.*

(author's note: did I just begin my blog with 2 references to body functions? hi, I'm Becky.)