Rescue Me

Yesterday my dear friend and neighbor visited with her 4-month old baby. The baby wanted to play with all the "big kid" toys, and the mom let her lie on her stomach for a while reaching for those toys just out of grasp and complaining (crying!) about her own immobility. In parent-speak, we call that "tummy time" basically letting your baby get mad and flounder about, with the broader goal of building those stomach muscles they'll need to roll and crawl later.

I was thinking about that as I had a couple of moments with Alex when I really wanted to rush in and help him out. He had lost a piece from his favorite toy, and my immediate thought was to tell him "Don't worry, we'll buy you a new one." But I realized even before I spoke the words that buying him something new every time he lost something wouldn't help him take care of his things, even if we could afford it. And so it is with our kids, that we need to let them experience some frustration and pain, to grow into the people we want them to be.

Today I feel like I am floundering away on my belly, more stuck then I've been in a long long time. I am crying, and more than a bit angry at the world. And I'm asking you God, again! to pick me up. And so I think, are you there God at all? Yes, I have faith that you are there, but why won't you change things now?

Me: Rescue Me.
God via the Woods: Not yet. You are growing stronger. You need this to crawl into the next stage.

Me (later): Okay. But I'm going to be mad sometimes and I'm going to keep asking you to pick me up.

How do you express your love?

I recently read a book that really changed the way I thought about the important relationships in my life. It's called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. There have been many times recently when I haven't felt super connected to my husband, or when I've felt like I've been doing so much for our family or for him, but he hasn't even noticed.

And the funny thing is, I might be right. What if I'm spinning my wheels getting all the shopping done, and all he notices is a tired mama at the end of the day? Or vice versa, I recently told him that I'd rather that he *not* cook the kids a full, amazing breakfast before school if he didn't have time to clean up the dishes. I realized that I couldn't see his loving act of feeding the kids, all I saw was the dirty dishes still on the counter when I got home in the afternoon.

This is where this book comes in. Essentially Chapman's theory is that each of us has one or two "love languages" that really renew us and keep us feeling connected - Acts of Service, Quality Time, Physical Affection, Words of Affirmation, and Gifts.  We all need some of each of them - but there are certain ones, that if we don't get them, we won't feel filled up in the love our partner or family member or friend feels for us.

I think I'm a quality time lover. Give me a focused 15 minute conversation over a glass of wine, a night away, or firm plans for a future vacation and I'm feeling good. 

After thinking long and hard about it, I think Jeff is an "acts of service" guy. Hence the pledge of allegiance to laundry and dry cleaning I took in the last blog post. Maybe someday he'll read the book himself and tell me different, but for now - I'm focusing my energy on acts of service.

It's been interesting to think about this in relation to my kids too. My friend has told me that the author has written a "Love Languages of your Kids" book as well. In the meantime I've started to notice that Ben really thrives on the "special time" we've established each week. And Alex relishes physical affection so much that many nights he will insist on eating dinner on one of our laps.

I'd really encourage anyone who wants some more insight into their relationships to read this book - good stuff!

I've also changed the comments settings tonight so if you've tried to comment unsuccessfully in the past, please try again - I think I've taken down most of blogger's brick walls.

On Obedience

A couple of weeks ago on retreat the women's ministry director Sheryl Brisbane spoke about "obeying God". Then Alex came home with a flyer from Sunday school "Obey God" it said, a duck underneath. "I don't think I know what this means," my sister commented, and I agreed. I can only imagine what Alex thinks - he was musing that he didn't feel wood in his belly after Easter (a derivation I can only imagine from a combination of the cross and feeling "Jesus in your heart". Ouch!).

Oh, the resistance I feel is so strong whenever anyone mentions I must do something. And even if I got over the resistance part, what the heck am I supposed to do to obey anyhow? I looked up the origin of the word obey and it boils down "to listen, hear". That's not so scary.

Sheryl was talking about obeying God through Jesus' mandate in John 15:  

• This is my commandment: that you love each other as I have loved you. There is no greater love than this—that a man should lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I tell you to do. 

So now, we're talking about obeying God by loving. I think when you're talking about God, you have to start with the people closest to you. And I thought, what am I doing right now for my husband that is a pure act of love, that essentially I get no benefit from?  I honestly couldn't think of a single thing. Sure, I have a laundry list of things I do for the family and for the kids - cook most of the meals, drive the kids around, clean up, take over full time on his frequent business trips - but what do I do only for him? 

I resolved to do two things for him out of pure obedience - things I had previously dropped lest he take me for granted. Laundry and dry cleaning, bring it on. I will do them as an act of love and guard my heart against any resentment - otherwise it's not so loving, is it? 

And God, I'll start by trying to listen more - and by loving the people with whom you've surrounded me.

Brothers and Sisters

Today my youngest son Alex turned four.  I have an online scrapbook of sorts that I keep for him with pictures and some comments on his antics. He had a great time at his party, but for me the day was punctuated by frequent emotional outbursts from big brother Ben - who, out of pure angst and jealousy at all the attention his brother was getting, simply couldn't control himself.  One culminating scene minutes before guests arrive:

Ben (shouting) - But I want want want (something, can't remember what!). Begins to throw himself down and start violently pulling off the tablecloth (with the decorated cake, and other goodies)
Me (shouting) - It's okay to feel angry but I'm not going to let you ruin this party! (grabbing hands off tablecloth)

Jeff, bless his heart, stepped in then. He says I just add fuel to the fire and he's right. This is days after I was blissfully on the flight back from Mexico and I wrote one of my top three priorities for the year - help kids with emotional lives (patience with anger and sadness, acknowledging and observing feelings).

I had a joke with my small group at church a few years ago - I prayed for patience, and guess what? I got lots of opportunities to practice my patience. It looks like I'll get lots of opportunities to help my kids with their emotions (and have to deal with mine in the process it seems).

Siblings are good for that - all that practice relating in the most intimate way. However painful, it's good to learn that you are not the center of the universe, even if you want to rip the tablecloth off the world as you know it.  But you also get a chance to care for someone in an open and vulnerable way. Just yesterday Ben was holding Alex's hand and shepherding him around a school field trip, in his protective and caring embrace.

I've gotten to feel that great love these past few weeks. My sister Hilary came to stay with our boys while Jeff and I got some time away. Forever grateful, I am.

And then I got a surprise from another sister.  In the mail I got a heartfelt note from my friend Gretchen, along with a fantastic owl ring "for when you don't give a hoot!" which made me laugh. Here's my second reveal which could be whispered in San Francisco about the same volume as I go to church; .....I was in a sorority.

I forget sometimes that I was in a sorority, and then those handful of women will come into my life again in a meaningful way, and I think yes, that was good. And thank you sister for that. The owl was the symbol of our sorority - and now as I wear the owl ring everyday I am reminded a) to laugh and b) that the intentional communities we create are important.

If you have siblings, what have you learned from them? What intentional communities have you been a part of or are you seeking?

Letting go of a dream

I love to ski. I feel so alive at the top of a mountain, with the fresh air, trees, and the adrenaline of swooshing down a slope, feeling slightly out of control.

In the early days of our marriage, Jeff and I would go with friends to Lake Tahoe and he would ski. But as his back pain progressively worsened, he would forgoe skiing to stay back at the cabin. Despite really hating the cold and the trek, he would go along because he knew I loved it – though inevitably a long car ride or a slip on the ice would really cause him pain – pain that I didn’t fully realize until months later.

Living in San Francisco I would hear of “city” families like ours who had grown up in the hustle and bustle but would spend each weekend up in Tahoe – skiing in the winter and swimming and enjoying nature in the summer.  Though the finance person in me wouldn’t really think of buying a second home, the dreamer in me wanted fresh air and mountains for myself and my husband and my kids.

It was our last trip to the mountains that made me realize that I secretly harbored this dream, and that in fact, I needed to let it go. Jeff arrived late and left early with a hastily-borrowed rental car. Three months later I am only now realizing how much pain he is still in today, from a slip on that trip while helping the boys go sledding. I feel awful.

Some dreams are more profound than a trip down the slopes. One of the women, Patti, who teaches Sunday school at our church desperately wanted kids. You can see a glimpse of her journey on this video.  Part of her had to let go of a dream in order to step into a full life now.

I will let go of some dreams, to let other abundant joys fill that place in my heart. I know that we will not be the family taking pictures of all of us in goggles at the top of the mountain. But our family will take pictures on beaches with snorkel masks and on top of ancient temples with sunglasses.

And yet there are some dreams I will keep firmly in my wildly hopeful waiting place. God, I want my hair back. Or for my friends: God, I want them to find a significant other. Or God, I want them to have the kids they yearn for in their hearts.

Of what dream do you need to let go? To what dream do you need to hold fast?

A letter to my self

At the airport I picked up a copy of O magazine, and there was Oprah, talking about God.  She had written a moving letter to herself, at age 20. Here’s an excerpt:

“You’ve spent too many days and years trying to please others and be what they wanted you to be. You will have to learn that the wounds of your past – rape, molestation, whippings for “stepping out of place,” and not being allowed to show anger or cry afterward – damaged your self esteem. Yet through it all, you’ve held on to a belief in God and God’s belief in you.

That will be your single greatest gift: knowing there is a power greater than yourself and trusting that Force to guide you.”

I was inspired to write a letter to myself, as I am today. I challenge you to write yourself a letter – what do you want to tell your 20-year old self? Or what does your future self want to tell you now? Are you brave enough to post your letter in the comments? :)

-------------------------

Dear Beautiful Bald Mama,

I see hope in your eyes. I see a light that can shine on others and open up a dark place in their hearts.

Yesterday as you were late shuttling the kids off to school and Alex was throwing a tantrum about his shoes and Ben was refusing to wear his backpack since the buckle was broken you felt hate in your heart. But you don’t hate your kids. You hate the feelings welling up inside of you of fear and powerlessness.

Don’t lock your heart up out of guilt. Know that those bad feelings are okay. Work hard to teach your kids that their anger and sadness are okay too, and request a do-over if you need to try again.

You will feel distanced from your kids, your husband, your friends and family, and know that one thing will bring you back: your belief in God and God’s overwhelming love for you.  Spend time everyday listening for that still small voice.

Be joyful! You are a part of this amazing world. Give of yourself generously, and it will be given unto you (did you like the upgrade to first class after you offered to trade seats with a young mom?).

Celebrate the divine in this world and the divine in you.

Love,

Megan

Who is with you on this Journey?

I am sitting here in the international airport, alone. Waiting for a long-anticipated trip to Mexico with my hubby. He realized last night that his passport expired a couple of months ago. It could have easily been me - I only checked my expiration date for the first time last night wondering when I could replace that awful mugshot.

Really the only thing to take away from this is how much I value Jeff and wish he were here. What good is a trip to tropical paradise without your love or friend? There are always personal retreats, which are so important - but I had one of those last weekend, afterall. This trip I wanted to reconnect, laugh, and build memories that will last us through the next inevitable rough patch.

As I sit here, I'm reminded of one of our family's favorite picture books, that was given to us by my dear friend Jenna's parents. It's called The Three Questions, and it's based on a story by Tolstoy.  The Boy asks: What is the best time to do things? Who is the most important one? What is the right thing to do? It's a story parents find profound - and kids enjoy the tale.

Who is the most important one? The one by your side. The one with whom you long to reconnect. The friend that you need. In our age of hundreds of facebook friends, I can spend hours responding to people who are connected to my life. But they are not the most important one.

Jeff should be on a flight tomorrow night. I miss him already. Who is with you on this Journey? Who is the most important one?