Gloomy Doomy

Uff-da.

It has been quite a day already; I feel like I have earned my mommy stripes. All day yesterday, Finn was pretty fussy and just not acting like himself. Then, last night, he slept - on average - about 30-45 minute increments. Needless to say, my poor sweet boy was not feeling well and there wasn't a whole lot that I could do about it. And there wasn't a whole lot of sleep being gotten at our house.

This morning, I was up before the sun in order to get ready for church. I was on the worship team and had to be there by 7:30. I tried to do as much as I could to myself before Finn awoke, but didn't get nearly as far as I wanted to. When Finn woke up, it was clear to see that he still was not feeling great. But I nursed him and bathed him and got him ready without much incident.

Except for the part where he pooped in the tub.

But I got him cleaned up, got the tub cleaned up, and got him dressed. As I tried getting ready, I pulled out every trick in my bag to keep him from fussing and wanting to be held. Dancing, singing, handing him things to suck on..............here it was, only 7:15 and I was already exhausted!

On the way to church, I began praying for the service and for my own spirits as they were dragging. The sky was beautiful.....the sun rising in the east was magnificent in the way that its rays were passing through the clouds. But even that wasn't lifting my spirits as it normally would. Off to the west, a dark wall of clouds was making its way into town and it was easy to see that a storm was brewing. Unfortunately, those were the clouds that better matched my mood.

All of a sudden, I saw a rainbow spreading forth against the storm clouds as the song that I was listening to sang, "Love never fails....".

And it hit me that I had a choice: I could either focus on the storm clouds rolling in, or on the rainbow and its representation of the promises of God.

If I focused on the storm clouds, my gloomy, doomy mood would be allowed to take over and the storm could rage on.

If I focused on the rainbow, the shadows of my mood could surrender to the beauty of God's promises. The storm may still come to rage its power, but it could never cause God's promises to falter or fade.

He promises to never leave me or forsake me.
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you. He will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 31:6

He promises to be my helper.
"For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." (Isaiah 41:13)

He promises that He has plans for me.
"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

He promises that He loves me and that nothing could come between us.
"But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loves us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:37-39)


What was I feeling gloomy about again?

The Graduate

No metaphorical ruminations or odes to weight loss today.

Today, the main thing on my mind is that in approximately one week I will be preparing to re-begin grad school. Granted, I am getting my feet wet slowly by taking only one class, but still.......it kinda sorta feels like a lot.

Sometimes, this feels like the masters degree that knows no end! It is crazy to think that I started this program in August 2007; before Finn, before my job, before Matt. I honestly had an entirely different life back then!

I had just moved back home to Sioux Falls after 2 years in Arkansas, working as a nanny, doing ministry with Chi Alpha, and spending most of my spare time with Kiki and her family. I remember at one point when I lived down there, Kiki was trying to teach Cort to ask her or Matt before he could do something. And he says, "Yep, I know! I ask you or Daddy or Goosey!" I felt honored :).

Cort and Goosey

Me and Laners

Since I have lived in Sioux Falls again, graduate school has been a fairly big part of my life. And at this point, there are only FOUR semesters for me to complete before I am finished.

Even so, there was a part of me that didn't want to go back. I didn't want to mess with Finn and my routine and honestly, I didn't want to be away from my boys for 5 1/2 hours every Tuesday evening. I admit, I can be selfish with my time!

But the thought of going back to class still gives me butterflies in my stomach; I know deep down that there is that part of me that loves school and desperately desires that degree. Thanks to the encouragement of my husband, back to class I go! And I am hoping it is not just because he wants his 'guy' nights back!

I remember when I first realized that I wanted to be a school counselor. I was working on homework and had on an episode of Seventh Heaven in the background as mindless noise. And the younger son on the show (Simon, to you die-hard fans), was talking to his dad about a problem he was having. I found myself wanting to give him advice - speak life and encouragement to him! And all of a sudden, I just knew. I knew that I wanted to be a counselor for kids. I immediately called my mom - who, by the way, is the best counselor I know - to discuss the possibilities with her.

At the time, I was in my final semester at North Central and was student teaching. I had two separate sections of student teaching. The first was in a small Christian school with 3rd graders. Those kids just oozed love and acceptance. They saved me spots at their lunch tables, handcrafted cards for me, and made it a habit of telling me that they thought I was wonderful. IT was wonderful.

But my second student teaching section was vastly different. It was at an inner city middle school with an extremely diverse population of kids. And man, did those kids make me work for it! For the first couple of weeks, I lived my life with a perpetual pit in my stomach because of how much they intimidated me. But slowly, as I showed genuine interest in their lives, they began to accept me. I had to seek them out because they weren't coming to me! So I spent lunch time playing basketball with the boys, I talked to the girls about my crush on Orlando Bloom, I went to their dances and baseball games.

All of this to say that middle schoolers are my absolute favorite age group. Not that I don't love the younger kids, but there is a certain investment value when the relationship costs blood, sweat, and tears! Therefore, middle schoolers are where my heart is, the ones I get excited to work with and counsel.

By the time I was student teaching, I knew enough about teaching to know that I did not want to be a teacher for the rest of my life. This is not the prime spot to find oneself in during the last semester of college! However, with my newfound passion for counseling, I figured that if I honed in on school counseling, then I could still use my undergraduate degree AND get to do something I love.

Being ever the planner that I am, I did not go directly into grad school but chose to move down to Arkansas for two years in order to build a savings to pay for my masters. Plus, there was probably a piece of me that wanted a teeny, tiny break from school.

As I am sitting here rehashing what a process this degree has been, I am able to look back with a peace and know that I am still doing what I am supposed to be doing. Somehow, amongst all the twists, turns and speed bumps on the road, I still feel like I am where I am meant to be. I still feel the inner drive to work with middle schoolers.

There are times when I look at how full my life is and can allow myself to get overwhelmed by it all. How am I supposed to be a full time stay at home mommy, a part time work from home employee, a part time graduate student, and a full time wife?

But I guess what I am realizing more and more is, why get overwhelmed when I can give thanks for the gifts He gives each day? Why get dragged down with complaining when I can rejoice in God and thereby be lifted up? Why dread the tasks of each day when I know that I can do ALL things through Him who gives me strength?

These are the kinds of things I need to think about when I feel my grad school motor slow down to a limp. I know that I have been equipped for this task. I want to be working with kids. I want to work for that investment. I want to be a blessing, because I have been so very blessed.

Hammock

We have a hammock swing out back that I have had for years. It is the only swing we have so I have recently begun putting Finn in it if we get a jonesing for a good swing escape.

When I first placed him in it, he wasn't so sure. He looked at me like I was crazy and then proceeded to take action to escape. I am sure it felt like a strange position for him, suspended and laid-back. Being the kind of mother I am (you have to try it before you can say you don't like it!), I left him in it and sought to distract his efforts to be lifted out. I sang, I swung him, I held his gaze so he would know he was all right. Sure enough, as he relaxed, he began to laugh and giggle his adorable giggle.

When swing time was over and I slowed the swing in order to take him out, apprehension took over him once again and he started to fight what I was trying to do - lift him out.

He writhed and wriggled and managed to get his sweet little fingers and toes curled around and caught in  the roped holes of the hammock.

This caused more "trouble" than needed, as I had had it under control. His striving and fighting to release himself only complicated me lifting him out. But I couldn't blame him; after all, he was only doing what felt natural to him. He was struggling for a bit of control.

So it is with me.

Sometimes, when I am placed in certain situations, I fight against the uncomfortable newness of it - especially if it is a position I would not choose for myself. I struggle for a bit of control.

But when I focus on the gaze of God instead of on my position, I am able to relax and enjoy where I am in the moment. I am able to ignore the new, uncomfortable feeling and trust that God has me where I am for a reason. When I focus on the gaze of God, I am overwhelmed by His peace and beauty and my position matters less and less. All that matters is Him.

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all of your anxiety on Him because He cares for you" (1 Peter 5:6-7).

I too often writhe and wriggle to try to release myself from situations I am placed in. I can do this through manipulating, complaining, or an active and fighting rebellion. So often, my striving, my ceasing to be still, causes so much more trouble than if I had just relaxed and let God lift me up in His time.

 My fingers and toes get caught in metaphorical holes if I begin to fight where God has placed me. Thereby, I become more uncomfortable than if I had just relaxed and trusted - trusted that God works all things for good (Romans 8:28) and that He is more than able to lift me out when the right time comes.

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still" (Exodus 14:14).

Oh, may I gaze on God and rest easily in the hammocks of life.....whatever they are. If I pay close enough attention, I may even feel His arms in charge of the swing and His voice singing over me.

Oh, Be Careful Little Mouth...

My mom used to have a song she would sing to reprimand our naughty mouths that went like this:
"Oh be careful little mouth what you say! Oh be careful little mouth what you say! For the Father up above is looking down in love, oh be careful little mouth what you say!"

To this day I am not sure if she created this one herself or stole it from somewhere else. Either way, it was preferable to a bar of soap in the mouth :).

I have been ruminating on my words recently as Finn has begun crawling. He crawls everywhere and he moves quick and he is fearless when it comes to pulling himself up on things. As I spend the greater part of my day shadowing him and making sure he is safe, I have caught myself saying things like,

"You are so exhausting!"
"You little nerd!"
"You are such a handful!"
Although I say these things with laughter in my voice, I usually wish that I could take those words back and replace them with something softer and more gentle.

Colossians 4:5-6 "Be gracious in your speech. The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, not cut them out."

There is no denying that the affect that words have over us is powerful. They can hit us like a punch in the gut or soothe us like an arm around the shoulder.

My mom was telling me a story awhile back about when she was in college. She was working in downtown Minneapolis and had a nasty cold. After one particular cough explosion, she overheard someone say, "That's a cough that isn't long for this world". To this day, she still hears that voice when she gets sick, wondering if it is a malady making way for the grim reaper.

For me, it goes back to words I heard as a child. When I was growing up, the words that I remember the most about myself are "brat" and "selfish". This is not to say that I didn't deserve them or that they weren't often said in jest; it is not to say that many nice things weren't said as well. It is simply to say that they are the ones most seared in my memory. Even still, anytime someone says one of those words in conjunction with my name, it takes me a second to catch my composure again.

Just last week, Matt and I were discussing our game plan on something and he said, "I'm not saying you're being selfish, but....". And I just started crying. That word has power to me. To me, selfish and brat are the two worst words in the entire English language. Yes, they are even worse than 'moist'; worse than 'succulent'; worse than 'bootylicious'.

In many ways, I feel as though I have lived much of my adult life trying to run from those two words; I try to distance myself as much as possible from them. But the unfortunate truth is that sometimes I still act bratty. Sometimes I still act selfish. They have followed me into adulthood, into marriage, into motherhood.

We all have things about ourselves that threaten to bring us shame. Since childhood is such a formative time in life, many of these undesired characteristics were derived before we had any inclination to their long-term results.  Even more so, many of those bandaged-over wounds can still rip open from time to time - no matter how old we get.

Because of this, I am trying to stay sensitively conscious of the words that I speak over Finn. It would literally break my heart if he were to ever think that he is 'too much to handle' or an 'exhausting' presence in my life. Or that he truly think himself a nerd and thereby become blissfully uncool! As his mother and the person that is with him nearly 100% of the time, it is my job to speak goodness and love into his life. I am discovering that there are ways that I can release what I am feeling without negative connotation.

Instead of, "You are so exhausting!" I can speak, "You are so adventurous!"
Instead of, "You little nerd!" I can speak, "You are so funny!"
Instead of, "You are such a handful!" I can speak, "You keep Mommy on her toes!"

Ephesians 4:29-32 states, "Watch the way you talk. let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift."

A gift. With the words we speak, we can give gifts of encouragement, love, and tenderness. Each time I talk to Finn, I can choose to let him know that I love him and that I think he is an amazing blessing. May this sweet little boy never doubt that he is loved!

Similarly, as I concentrate on speaking positive words over my son, I am also practicing doing the same thing over myself.

'Brat' and 'selfish' do not have to be burdens weighing me down as constant reminders of how I used to be. Rather, they can be catalysts to remind me how not to be. I may have a spunky attitude, but I am not a brat. I may have grown up selfishly wanting my own way, but as an adult woman I can pour myself out to be a blessing for others. Words do not define us; actions do. But words can have one heck of an impact. May I use my words as gifts, to bless, and to find beautiful things in others.

Romans 12:17: "Don't hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you've got it in you, get along with everyone."

"Don't let evil get the best of you. Get the best of evil by doing good." Romans 12:21

1 Peter 3:8-11 says, "Summing up: Be agreeable, be sympathetic, be loving, be compassionate, be humble. That goes for all of you, no exceptions. No retaliation. No sharp-tongued sarcasm. Instead, bless - that's your job, to bless. you'll be a blessing and also get a blessing. Whoever wants to embrace life and see the day fill up with good, here's what you do; Say nothing evil or hurtful; snub evil and cultivate good; run after peace for all you're worth."

Father

This song/video tells an amazing story of parental love in relation to God's love for us. Obviously, since its between a dad and daughter, it was easy for me to draw correlations between my own dad and myself. My dad and I didn't have a picture perfect relationship, but I do believe that he prayed for me every day of my life and he sought to do his best to point me to Jesus. 

More than that though, I just want to sing this song over my son. There is a prideful and jealous part of me that DOES want to be everything that Finn needs. But there is wisdom in me that knows that I could never love Finn the way he needs to be loved by my own strength: in firmness and gentleness, in proclamation and action, in grace and correction, in completeness and selflessness. I have searched and the only One I have found who can love like that is God. 

Since I was a teenager and rededicated my life to God, I have clung to the characteristic of God that promises that He is my Father God. Perhaps it is because I wasn't very close with my own dad. God is the Father who loves perfectly because He is love. And He is perfect. 

1 John 3:1 - "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

Bypassing August

Autumn and I, well, we've always kind of had a thing. 

We love each other, Autumn and I. 

She gives me colorful leaves, pumpkin patch excursions, hot apple cider, sweater weather, cool mornings and evenings with warm afternoons, crisp breezes, setting clocks back, hayrides.....

And me? What do I do for Autumn? I enjoy her. I bask in the bounty of her charms. 

But, every year there is one small problem that arises, one minuscule annoyance that must be overcome before I can annually bond with my Autumn. 

August.

I don't love August much. It is hot and humid. There are no fun holidays in August. August means the last sunshine-filled days of summer. The only thing that August brings is the impending doom of school starting back up again.

After taking a year off from pursuing my Masters, I am headed back to the classroom. It could be said that perhaps.......because of that.........that maybe August and I are a little bit more at odds than we have been in the past.

No, I don't like August much. Every year I try to ignore it but it just never seems to get the hint. It keeps coming back like the ants that keep marching into our house and refuse to drink the poison that we lay out for them. August sniffs defiantly at my poison.

So I give up. I cast a haughty glance its way and then I allow myself to partake in August's one amenity: back to school shopping. Fresh paper, new pens, a funky binder, an unmarked planner just begging to be covered.

I should leave it at that before I start thinking of the textbooks I have to buy.

Sigh.

Dumb old August.

Kicking My Own Booty - Day Twenty-Three

I wrote this last Wednesday and had yet to post it:

Day Seventeen

This has not been the easiest week.

This past weekend Matt and I faced true temptation to stray far off of our diet plan. Taco John's was calling our names - simultaneously, if you can believe that - and we yearned to respond!

But we withheld. There have been other temptations; namely, for me, the candy aisles at Walmart/Target where I am so in the habit of "treating" myself.

On top of the increased pull of temptation, we have all been nursing colds this week. Perhaps that is why our defenses are down; we feel sick and thereby sorry for ourselves and in the past would have treated ourselves accordingly. I don't think I ever realized before just how often I ate to meet an emotional need: if I was down or crabby or feeling sorry for myself, I would turn to food to help me turn it around. What a shame that I missed all of those opportunities to bring those needs to God.

Anyway, being sick at night in our household looks something like this: Matt snores more and keeps me awake. I cough like a maniac and wake him up. Finn periodically wakes up as though he is missing the party. Needless to say, I have been lacking in sleep this past week. On top of that, I have been trying to squeeze in more hours at home for work as they need my help during a transition period.  On top of THAT, I have been making myself work out 2x/day - something cardio and Pilates.

So what I have had is this: More work + less sleep + annoying cough x self-imposed pressure to work out - comfort food = help!

Phew, okay, I feel as though this entry is so negative. Time for some positive news!!!

I tried on all of my old jeans today and they ALL fit! Granted, they still don't fit the way they used to, but I am getting there. And this is a huge milestone for someone who just a couple of months ago couldn't pull them up over her hips. Ug, that is embarrassing to admit. But there it is.

I share the good so it is only fair to share the bad as well!

Plus it is just 1 and a half more weeks until I get to go shopping! All those extra hours of work (and extra money) will come in mighty handy then :).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day Twenty-Three

Here I am, nearly a week later, and I can't say that I have fared much better this week than last. Granted, it has been a crazy - in every sense of the word - week. My dad passed away on Thursday, siblings came into town Friday, viewing on Friday, more siblings on Saturday, interment and memorial on Saturday, family time, family time, family time. I feel as though I have barely been home. I feel as though Finn's schedule is all out of whack. I feel emotionally drained. I feel exhausted.

And after the good news last week of being able to fit into my old pants, this week I am a little disappointed in myself.

Let's just say that where there is a funeral, there is food. For several days, I fought the urges and stayed pretty close to the diet laid out for us. But by Sunday I started to break. I had already made so many compromises with my diet, trying to stay as on track as possible with the meals that were being provided. But I slowly found that being firm with myself just was not working anymore. The importance of the diet lessened in the midst of everything else.

Yesterday I flat out rebelled and ate a piece of my mom's beloved BTS cake (as a chaser for lunch, no less).

One slice of BTS cake does not bring emotional healing. Trust me, I know.

While I have since gotten back up on the perennial horse..........I still am facing some disappointment with myself that I didn't make it the 4-6 weeks on the diet like I wanted to without cheating.

As much as I want to dust myself off and give myself grace, I am finding it hard to muster up the energy to do so.

So today I just do what I can do: I pick back up my diet. I rest when I can. And I pore into God's Word, because only there can I find the cure for my exhaustion that I am so desperate to grasp.