So I'm angry at God... but I am also angry at myself.
I know better than to wallow. To sit in the pain or to play the victim. I know how to keep going. To put away the feelings and move on with life.
I know better. And so I am angry at all the time I have wasted being sad, lonely, angry, etc.
I know what works to get me out of the funk I am in but lately, okay being totally honest about a year or so, I have not wanted to do the things that work. I have wanted to wallow. I have wanted to watch Gilmore Girls for hours on end. To play on Twitter and get sucked into the world of Candy Crushing. To read and reread favorite novels. To avoid the work I know I am to do.
Except do I know better?
Those things that work for me... they may pull me out of the funk but is that really what's best?
See, the things I do, the going through the motions focused on the task at hand, and the conversations I avoid, chatting about the logistics and the safe things, they move me along. They get me refocused and back to productivity and living a life I see as valuable and good. They get me back to living and doing.
But is there value in the being... the being sad, being hurt, being angry.
I get angry with myself when I let my feelings get the best of me, when I lean into them and let them wash over me. It seems a waste of time, a fool's errand, unbelieving. But maybe that is where I need to be.
I am sure I need to do it better. No one person ever needs to see as many episodes of Real Housewives as I have seen this year. But maybe the wallowing needs to happen.
Because the truth is when I wallow I am actually being honest about what I am feeling.
I can't hide my pain when I wallow. The people around me notice. And ask about it.
So maybe there is value in letting the emotions wash over you.
Or maybe not. Maybe it is just an excuse for me to spend another hour or two or three trying to complete the next level of Candy Crush.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
I Am Angry at God but He Seems to Be Okay with Loving Me Through It
I was sitting outside church this last Sunday, ready to give up and drive away. Tears rising up but knowing that the last thing I wanted was to walk inside and have people, strangers and new acquaintances knowing I had been crying.
I am angry at God, still. I am hurt.
Most of the time I can move around that feeling with Him. I can still do my Bible study homework and talk to my kids about God and His love for them. I can pray for my friends and even myself. I am good at doing the business of life with God while avoiding the real deep feelings I have. But not always.
This move, taking me away from those that know me well and love me better, that help me be my best self and encouraged me to be even better. To write, to love, to share life. God could have made life in California work. But he didn't. He led us here. And while this is an amazing place. I have to start over and I am tired of that.
Each time we move things are taken away from me. Not just people, but my history, my reputation. Each time I have to start over. I have to sign up for Bible study, not teach it. I have to join a new small group, one that does not know my heart for God. How do you share honestly your anger and pain in a new Bible study small group when they do not know that my faith is deep and wide? And so I turn here.
I am hurt. I am angry.
I thought God was doing something with my writing, with my teaching, with leading women to experience God's love and grace. I thought I had found my purpose in Oregon when I first started teaching Bible study in Oregon years ago, when Little One was a huge belly bump. I loved it. But then we moved to California. And I know all the good reasons we did so. I know it was the right move, but I lost my role.
And so I turned to writing my thoughts instead. I started this blog. My first blog post Out of Control was posted on October 15, 2008. I didn't think much of it at the time. Just an outlet to get my thoughts out of my head and maybe encourage a few of those women I was once blessed to teach. But over the last five years, I have seen other bloggers' audiences grow from 3 to 10 to 75 to hundreds. And I hoped. Maybe this would be my thing, my way of adding value to the world. But instead this stays a small place for my friends to keep up with what's on my mind. And while I know there is value in that, I wonder, often, if maybe it is time to give up on this work. To let my thoughts go back to being held in private. To stop thinking of this as work and to just stop trying to pursue the dream of maybe...
When we returned to Oregon I got to teach again. Oh and how amazing that was. I loved opening myself up to God and seeing what He had for me to share. I loved knowing that my stories might be helping someone else see God in a new way. But we moved again. And again. And I am wondering how this transient life will ever lead to my dreams.
I am 40 years old and starting over.
And I am tired of it. I am absolutely worn out by the newness this time.
And I hate that right now my entire life is being defined by my role as wife and mother. I'm not proud of this but it is true.
I love my family. But I want to be me too.
And so I sat outside of church this last Sunday, on the verge of tears. Tired of being new and scared that I may never make real connections here. I was angry at God. Rage filled. Overwhelmed by a desire to walk away. To quit and be done with following Him where ever He leads.
But I walked inside anyway. Because that is what you do when your kids are in Sunday School and it is time to go to big church together as a family.
Somedays faith is about going through the motions. Because it is in being in the motions, being in the building, that God can work His magic. That a conversation can happen that reminds you that He's got this and that you are where you are meant to be. That things will be okay.
Not that everything is all better. But this Sunday, God gave me a win for that day.
Do you need a win today?
I am angry at God, still. I am hurt.
Most of the time I can move around that feeling with Him. I can still do my Bible study homework and talk to my kids about God and His love for them. I can pray for my friends and even myself. I am good at doing the business of life with God while avoiding the real deep feelings I have. But not always.
This move, taking me away from those that know me well and love me better, that help me be my best self and encouraged me to be even better. To write, to love, to share life. God could have made life in California work. But he didn't. He led us here. And while this is an amazing place. I have to start over and I am tired of that.
Each time we move things are taken away from me. Not just people, but my history, my reputation. Each time I have to start over. I have to sign up for Bible study, not teach it. I have to join a new small group, one that does not know my heart for God. How do you share honestly your anger and pain in a new Bible study small group when they do not know that my faith is deep and wide? And so I turn here.
I am hurt. I am angry.
I thought God was doing something with my writing, with my teaching, with leading women to experience God's love and grace. I thought I had found my purpose in Oregon when I first started teaching Bible study in Oregon years ago, when Little One was a huge belly bump. I loved it. But then we moved to California. And I know all the good reasons we did so. I know it was the right move, but I lost my role.
And so I turned to writing my thoughts instead. I started this blog. My first blog post Out of Control was posted on October 15, 2008. I didn't think much of it at the time. Just an outlet to get my thoughts out of my head and maybe encourage a few of those women I was once blessed to teach. But over the last five years, I have seen other bloggers' audiences grow from 3 to 10 to 75 to hundreds. And I hoped. Maybe this would be my thing, my way of adding value to the world. But instead this stays a small place for my friends to keep up with what's on my mind. And while I know there is value in that, I wonder, often, if maybe it is time to give up on this work. To let my thoughts go back to being held in private. To stop thinking of this as work and to just stop trying to pursue the dream of maybe...
When we returned to Oregon I got to teach again. Oh and how amazing that was. I loved opening myself up to God and seeing what He had for me to share. I loved knowing that my stories might be helping someone else see God in a new way. But we moved again. And again. And I am wondering how this transient life will ever lead to my dreams.
I am 40 years old and starting over.
And I am tired of it. I am absolutely worn out by the newness this time.
And I hate that right now my entire life is being defined by my role as wife and mother. I'm not proud of this but it is true.
I love my family. But I want to be me too.
And so I sat outside of church this last Sunday, on the verge of tears. Tired of being new and scared that I may never make real connections here. I was angry at God. Rage filled. Overwhelmed by a desire to walk away. To quit and be done with following Him where ever He leads.
But I walked inside anyway. Because that is what you do when your kids are in Sunday School and it is time to go to big church together as a family.
Somedays faith is about going through the motions. Because it is in being in the motions, being in the building, that God can work His magic. That a conversation can happen that reminds you that He's got this and that you are where you are meant to be. That things will be okay.
Not that everything is all better. But this Sunday, God gave me a win for that day.
Do you need a win today?
Monday, September 23, 2013
Wisconsin... What I've Learned So Far
It has been two and a half months since we arrived in the great state of Wisconsin and here's what I have learned so far...
* In Wisconsin those speed limit signs seem to indicate the actual top speed you should be driving and not just the suggested minimum as was the case in California. Not that everyone drives under the speed limit but they definitely take the word limit more seriously here.
* They also take the Great Lakes seriously. Middle Man had a test within the first week of school. He had to know the names of the continents, the great lakes, and the oceans. Notice the order - knowing the great lakes comes before learning the oceans. I'm thankful for the HOMES acronym (Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie and Superior) and my son's quick memorization skills.
* Don't tell anyone from Wisconsin this but I am not a fan of plain cheese curds, which they will proudly tell you is the cheese the squeaks when you eat it. But I do love me some fried cheese curds. I also think ice cream is superior to custard but Culver's makes the best local chain store hamburger we have ever had. Better than In-n-out and Burgerville. I think it's the butter. I didn't say it is the healthiest but definitely the yummiest burger.
* Rural living takes some planning, as in don't forget to make a list and check it twice when going to the grocery store or Target or pretty much anywhere else since you have to actually drive into town for those. It's really not that far at all but for someone who used to have three grocery stores within a half mile and at least as many coffee shops, having to drive into town has proven to be a bit of a deterrent for me. My Starbucks consumption has gone way down (might want to sell your stock) and when I ran out of Lancome mascara I decided to just go with something from Target rather than drive to the mall which quite a bit farther. My boys also got to experience the joy of having pizza delivered for the first time last night because it was worth it to not have to drive and get it. One thing that has gotten closer is the ice rink which is only five minutes away now. Joy upon JOY!
* Thunder storms are no joking matter. They happen regularly and can cause quite a bit of ruckus when they want. Last weekend we lost power for a few hours after a particularly bad storm. Between Little One's anxiety and my not liking to lose power to the water well pump, I think a generator is in our future.
* There is no AT&T cell service in parts of the state. I met up for a girl's weekend with a friend from Iowa at a halfway point between the two of us. While Mineral Point is quaint and full of artistic and historic charm it has neither a good sports bar nor cell coverage for me. Thankfully my friend had Sprint which apparently loves real rural life (not the pretend thing we do outside of Milwaukee) and had plenty of cell towers to keep us from being completely out of reach. Not that I needed to be reached since my husband had the kids at the grandparents in Michigan. Three adults can certainly take care of three kids without needing to text or call Mom.
* This is one beautiful state. Green and lush. Cornfields and water towers. Roads cut through limestone walls and wonderful architecture. History laid up next to every day now. And as the leaves just start to hint at changing colors, I am looking forward to experiencing all the seasons this year.
This West Coast girl is still caught off guard at times by differences between the Midwest and the West Coast but I am feeling more at home each day.
* In Wisconsin those speed limit signs seem to indicate the actual top speed you should be driving and not just the suggested minimum as was the case in California. Not that everyone drives under the speed limit but they definitely take the word limit more seriously here.
* They also take the Great Lakes seriously. Middle Man had a test within the first week of school. He had to know the names of the continents, the great lakes, and the oceans. Notice the order - knowing the great lakes comes before learning the oceans. I'm thankful for the HOMES acronym (Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie and Superior) and my son's quick memorization skills.
* Don't tell anyone from Wisconsin this but I am not a fan of plain cheese curds, which they will proudly tell you is the cheese the squeaks when you eat it. But I do love me some fried cheese curds. I also think ice cream is superior to custard but Culver's makes the best local chain store hamburger we have ever had. Better than In-n-out and Burgerville. I think it's the butter. I didn't say it is the healthiest but definitely the yummiest burger.
* Rural living takes some planning, as in don't forget to make a list and check it twice when going to the grocery store or Target or pretty much anywhere else since you have to actually drive into town for those. It's really not that far at all but for someone who used to have three grocery stores within a half mile and at least as many coffee shops, having to drive into town has proven to be a bit of a deterrent for me. My Starbucks consumption has gone way down (might want to sell your stock) and when I ran out of Lancome mascara I decided to just go with something from Target rather than drive to the mall which quite a bit farther. My boys also got to experience the joy of having pizza delivered for the first time last night because it was worth it to not have to drive and get it. One thing that has gotten closer is the ice rink which is only five minutes away now. Joy upon JOY!
* Thunder storms are no joking matter. They happen regularly and can cause quite a bit of ruckus when they want. Last weekend we lost power for a few hours after a particularly bad storm. Between Little One's anxiety and my not liking to lose power to the water well pump, I think a generator is in our future.
* There is no AT&T cell service in parts of the state. I met up for a girl's weekend with a friend from Iowa at a halfway point between the two of us. While Mineral Point is quaint and full of artistic and historic charm it has neither a good sports bar nor cell coverage for me. Thankfully my friend had Sprint which apparently loves real rural life (not the pretend thing we do outside of Milwaukee) and had plenty of cell towers to keep us from being completely out of reach. Not that I needed to be reached since my husband had the kids at the grandparents in Michigan. Three adults can certainly take care of three kids without needing to text or call Mom.
* This is one beautiful state. Green and lush. Cornfields and water towers. Roads cut through limestone walls and wonderful architecture. History laid up next to every day now. And as the leaves just start to hint at changing colors, I am looking forward to experiencing all the seasons this year.
This West Coast girl is still caught off guard at times by differences between the Midwest and the West Coast but I am feeling more at home each day.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Turning 40
I turned 40 this summer. It was a bigger deal than I expected. Not the actual birthday. We had just moved to Wisconsin so there was no big party and the birthday weekend away with my husband turned into a family getaway when our babysitting plans fell through. I'm not complaining because it really was a nice birthday full of reminders of how blessed my life has been and how loved I am, something I often forget.
All I'm saying is that the actual turning 40 was a rather quiet affair. But the being 40, now that one is hitting me harder than I expected. Mostly because my body is proving how old it is and more importantly how poorly I have taken care of it in the last decade or two. But I am also remembering how old 40 seemed when I was 20 and even 30 and know that I am now old. Or at least old enough to no longer be considered young.
Yeah, I know 40 is the new 30 and 60 the new 40 but that's just because we have access to better medical care, hair coloring and denial.
I'm not saying it's all downhill from here because there are some great things about aging.
I really am more comfortable in my skin and less concerned with how others view me. I can be my own person now without feeling a need to explain or defend or even worse - prove I'm right.
My kids are old enough now to all go to school, to make their own lunches, tie their own shoes, go to timeout when sent and leave me alone when I am going to the bathroom. They can sit quietly in a waiting room and I don't have to lug around a huge bag of snacks and diapers and entertainment devices. The boys are old enough to carry their own heavy bags and to even roll my carry on through the airport for me.
I have had enough bad things happen to myself and those around me to have gained a little perspective. I guess I could use those experiences to become scared of everything, and I definitely have a healthy respect for the hard things that could happen, but mostly those experiences have taught me to keep walking forward, to remember all the times that God has taken care of me even in ways I did not appreciate at the time, to know that it is a season.
The main thing I have discovered though as I have hit middle aged is that I want to err on the side of grace in all things.
Life is more grey than I could ever understand in my teens and 20s, something I discovered in my 30s. Truth with a capital T is hard enough to define for myself much less for someone else. Stories have layers and sides to their telling. I know so much less with certainty these days but I hold tightly to that which I do know to be true for me.
So while I know less, I love more.
More because I don't have to be right. I don't have to make others conform to my understanding of the rules of life. Grace allows me to see the grey - to know that God is at work in this world apart from me having to understand it.
More because I have comfortable enough and even bored enough with my own life to be genuinely interested in those around me. I am free to love my friends just as they are, to learn from them, and to see life differently through their eyes.
More because I have chosen to be okay with the unknown, with the not knowing it all, with grace. I have found comfort in the disequilibrium caused by not knowing. There is something calming about letting go of control, a false sense of it really, and going with the flow.
And more because I am more able to live in the moment. As you face down the second half of your life, you really do want to enjoy the here and now because the finish line is coming more clearly into view. Hopefully still a very distant, distant sight way, way, way far away but I can still catch a glimpse of it.
I'm not writing all this to say that turning 40 was some profound experience. It really wasn't.
I'm just saying that as you get older I think you get to choose whether you want to get stuck in your ways, becoming the old man yelling on the kids to stay off your grass, or you can recognize the big wide world for what it is - more than we can ever truly understand - and choose grace.
I choose grace.
All I'm saying is that the actual turning 40 was a rather quiet affair. But the being 40, now that one is hitting me harder than I expected. Mostly because my body is proving how old it is and more importantly how poorly I have taken care of it in the last decade or two. But I am also remembering how old 40 seemed when I was 20 and even 30 and know that I am now old. Or at least old enough to no longer be considered young.
Yeah, I know 40 is the new 30 and 60 the new 40 but that's just because we have access to better medical care, hair coloring and denial.
I'm not saying it's all downhill from here because there are some great things about aging.
I really am more comfortable in my skin and less concerned with how others view me. I can be my own person now without feeling a need to explain or defend or even worse - prove I'm right.
My kids are old enough now to all go to school, to make their own lunches, tie their own shoes, go to timeout when sent and leave me alone when I am going to the bathroom. They can sit quietly in a waiting room and I don't have to lug around a huge bag of snacks and diapers and entertainment devices. The boys are old enough to carry their own heavy bags and to even roll my carry on through the airport for me.
I have had enough bad things happen to myself and those around me to have gained a little perspective. I guess I could use those experiences to become scared of everything, and I definitely have a healthy respect for the hard things that could happen, but mostly those experiences have taught me to keep walking forward, to remember all the times that God has taken care of me even in ways I did not appreciate at the time, to know that it is a season.
The main thing I have discovered though as I have hit middle aged is that I want to err on the side of grace in all things.
Life is more grey than I could ever understand in my teens and 20s, something I discovered in my 30s. Truth with a capital T is hard enough to define for myself much less for someone else. Stories have layers and sides to their telling. I know so much less with certainty these days but I hold tightly to that which I do know to be true for me.
So while I know less, I love more.
More because I don't have to be right. I don't have to make others conform to my understanding of the rules of life. Grace allows me to see the grey - to know that God is at work in this world apart from me having to understand it.
More because I have comfortable enough and even bored enough with my own life to be genuinely interested in those around me. I am free to love my friends just as they are, to learn from them, and to see life differently through their eyes.
More because I have chosen to be okay with the unknown, with the not knowing it all, with grace. I have found comfort in the disequilibrium caused by not knowing. There is something calming about letting go of control, a false sense of it really, and going with the flow.
And more because I am more able to live in the moment. As you face down the second half of your life, you really do want to enjoy the here and now because the finish line is coming more clearly into view. Hopefully still a very distant, distant sight way, way, way far away but I can still catch a glimpse of it.
I'm not writing all this to say that turning 40 was some profound experience. It really wasn't.
I'm just saying that as you get older I think you get to choose whether you want to get stuck in your ways, becoming the old man yelling on the kids to stay off your grass, or you can recognize the big wide world for what it is - more than we can ever truly understand - and choose grace.
I choose grace.
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