Underwhelmed...

I know, killer costume right? (Thank you Dylan)

So, it's that time of year again...TRICK OR TREAT!!! I don't remember too much of it as a child, but know that it's so convoluted that it reeks of business. I mean, for us it's registering our kids so that they can get a glow bracelet that says, "they paid for your candy, hand it over" oh and while you're paying the $4, they're also scanning your info to see if you've paid your neighborhood association fees. WHAT!?!

Okay, so before it sounds like I'm just complaining - because I know of a few friends that are eager to traipse around in the dark wearing a costume, freezing while begging for candy from perfect strangers, while their kid is either eluding them or complaining that they're tired or they need to be carried or didn't get to enough houses/aka, "I want more candy" - I want to say that I think I'm at a strange place in my life. I don't yet know what to make of it.

I mean, I like the idea of people getting into things as families and neighborhoods and cities, but perhaps I'm jaded since I wish we could do this about things that really changes lives, like EDUCATION or JESUS. Don't suck your teeth at me; couldn't it be that simple? Everyone registers, pays (what they can) and then gets into it! I know, I know...

But, I just can't let go of the idea that there's more to this than what I've been doing lately. I guess perhaps that's the real deal. I'm underwhelmed by my home life, performance, attainment of status/lack of success because I'm too busy too sit back and really be and enjoy the things that I already get to experience. I'm overbooked, overstressed and over blessed, but somehow still manage to consistently be underwhelmed...

Like my Halloween costume. I'm supposed to be a detective by the way. It's a great idea, but because I'm so busy, I didn't put any practice into my accent, finding that stinkin' magnifying glass and really just "getting into it". I also allowed the pressure of others to pull my family apart...Dylan wasn't even here for night time trick or treating with the family - yucky, yuckers! Be patient with me while I go here, but I'm wondering if Dylan's idea for me to be a detective didn't suggest on a whole 'nother level that I ought to turn the magnifying glass on myself.

The magnifying glass would be to help me peel back the layers and really see myself, what I think I'm portraying, what others see and most importantly what God sees. I'm so stressed out that I haven't been able to be the wife, mother, stepmother, friend, neighbor, employee, volunteer, fill in the blank, that I want to be, that I envision myself being and that folks, just makes me sad...disappointed even. It's wearing me out and I think everyone around me too. It's not where I want to be, leaving those around me "underwhelmed", walking around knowing that God wants to BE something better than what I could ever DO and resting within that.

Perhaps I'm being too hard on myself, more time under the microscope with God will tell.

Social Networking - Proclamation 431

I'd hate to think that I'm a rebel at heart, but something in me is seriously questioning all of the "opportunities" (email, phone, texting, Facebook, Twitter, etc) I have to connect with people . Let me go further, people that I wouldn't normally talk to or interact with if not forced to do so in work, volunteer or other situations. Further? I don't have time for your drama folks, I've got a landfill of my own.

Will people miss me on Facebook? I took a deep breath (and held it) and deleted about 275 'friends' from my account. It's MY account, right? So less than 24 hours after doing so, I got a message asking me if the person had done anything to offend me - I think they're wondering why we're not 'friends' on Facebook anymore. I haven't responded because I don't know how to say, "it's not you, it's me" without coming across as flippant.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I liked seeing what folks were up to or hearing/seeing good news; but it was getting a little overwhelming. I'm not God, I can't do anything about your dog dying, your bad break up or tell you to stop swearing or just being dumb...I can't handle all of that information and I realized that I was trying to. Without realizing it, Facebook had become an obligation, to keep my page & photos and clever remarks fresh and new to keep people interested in me. That may not be what it was designed to do, but it was what was happening to me.

This morning, I read about not being mastered by anything (1 Corinthians 6: 9 - 20) and I had step back and realize that the stress I'm carrying in my shoulders is coming (partly) from being TOO connected. Ya feel me? Sometimes, there's just too much availability. I spent 20 minutes reading Harry Potter & the Half Blood Prince in my sun warmed window seat (that my husband customized for me) and you would've thought that I'd won the lottery. I couldn't stop beaming enjoying the simplicity of those minutes, uninterrupted, quiet, focused and I knew that God gifted that to me. How many gifts do I miss everyday wondering what a Facebook 'friend' that I never talk to, email or see is doing or thinking at that very moment. How much do I miss while worrying rather than enjoying the blessings?

Please hear me when I say that Facebook is not evil. It is a "permissible" thing, it's fine to catch up quickly, confirm a detail or two; I like that about Facebook. And I like a lot that the founder is donating a ton o money for seemingly good causes; but I have allowed this social networking situation to turn into something that steals my peace and joy. I am right now debating whether I will deactivate my account, that will take some more thought, but I am going to continue to weed down and out the people I'm calling my 'friends'. 100 seems like a good goal?!? Down from over 500, you bet! Quality over quantity, I always (well, almost always) say.

In exchange for the brief, stinted communications & posts via Facebook, I'm striving for returning to the days of Emily Post where people send hand written cards or make telephone calls or heck, even stop by or plan a visit to see one another in person. Change is a 'comin' and here's to getting a little bit of peace back!

I fixed it...

It is a cheese slicer.

A fairly nice one too...

Anyway, we've been using it a lot and then it broke! Got broken, we broke it, someone broke my cheese slicer!!!

I kept moving it around the kitchen counter to different places thinking that I'd need to have someone else look at it or fix it or just buy a new one (usually my favorite choice), until something in me said, "slow down and take a look." So, I slowed and prayed and took it apart, looked at and realized that I could fix this. The wire was simply loose and needed to be re-tightened, no tools and done! No need for a new cheese slicer and spending money we don't really have and a new found sense of accomplishment. I did it!

Such a big deal because there are so many things that I can NOT fix. So many things, I get bogged down in them. My marriage is not easy, communication is rough. Being a stepparent is challenging at every turn; there seems to be some cosmic law that says that it's not possible to have a great relationship with all of them at the SAME TIME. The relationship with the biological one is strained as he's moved into middle school and seems to wrestle daily with this idea that he loves me and thinks I'm cool and wishes I'd leave him alone and go to another planet. My job, my volunteer responsibilities, the scratches on the truck, my horrible "bad hair day" streak and on and on.

There is so much I can not change about the world around me, the people I love and even sometimes, myself.

Enter...God's perfect love. Even as I'm typing this, I know that I'm not fully amendable to 1 Corinthians 13 as a state of being. Living perfect love, I'm desperate for God to fix this in me. I'm so serious and protective at times I want to be playful and free spirited. I'm calculating, attempting to consider how person Q is going to hurt me the first chance they get. I worry about what people who are no more better off than me will think of me and how they will treat me when they realize how much of a mess I really am. Me, BEING love, it's complicated.

Then I have this revelation...what if I'm as simple to repair as the cheese slicer. What if God is just waiting to tweak me, tighten me in needed areas, relieve the slack in others? What if I'm making this more complicated? Yes, I realize that all of those are yeses or high in probability. The coolest thought I've come to though is that God, like me, wants to fix me and then hold me up proudly to show others what He's done. I have to be moldable, permissive, submissive and willing to allow Him to transform me into His likeness.

Don't get me wrong, while I've made a connection between my heart and our granite topped cheese slicer, I know that God's repair of my heart will take longer, but I now have faith that I don't have to view it as complicated and need to trust that He does not have plans to replace me.

It's good to be a cheese slicer.

7:49 a.m.

On a weekday morning, this is one of the most precious times for me. I close the door behind the 11 year old bustling out the front door with two rollers and a pile of hairspray in his hair for "Crazy Hair Day" and out the back door go the Four Muskateers. They are carrying backpacks, dad's lunch & briefcase, stepping over and into each other to get out the door and into the best seat in the minivan (yes, he drives the minivan).

I lean against the door and let out a huge sigh, almost immediately feeling guilty for being relieved to be alone.

In college, I had an apartment by myself during my senior year and though I enjoyed the quaintness of the apartment, I did not know how to be alone and ruined the experience (another blog for another day). Sometimes, I now long for that apartment or one similar to it where I can go and things are left just as I left them - unbroken - and smelling the same (seriously) and also fully stocked with my kind of foods and books and all of my channels preset on the television.

I don't stay long in that thought though because none of my peeps would be there.

Before I run off to fulfill the obligations of my day, I'll spend some quality time with God, reading the Bible & praying about all sorts of things & many different people. But I wanted to take a few minutes to mark the momentous occasion of 7:49 when all is quiet in my world.

Camp Hope

The anticipation is killing me, but this is how he chooses to walk into a new situation - not knowing anyone...

We are in Stevens Point chillaxin' the night before a new experience for dealing with old things (it's just Dylan and me).  Nervous about not yet having seen a lot of the reactions to death that we were told to expect, I figured his being a middle schooler and the high voltage of coming hormones might bring a lot of things to the surface.  I spoke to Dylan's 6th grade counselor in the spring and he recommended this FREE opportunity for Dylan to interact with other kids who are experiencing grief due to the loss of a parent or loved one.

This is the first time I've ever left Dylan with someone I didn't know or have some sort of connection with.  They have an orientation for him and then one for me (to put my nerves at ease) and then I leave my baby and drive 2 hours back home.  Not the end of the story...

On the way to this camp I've never been to before, I realized that I've been to Point before to visit the family of a dear friend (the one that reads this blog) and I was able to call her and get her parent's phone number to leave with the camp in case we need someone here quickly - more quickly than 2 hours away.  Emotional breakdown averted!

As I'm working through all of this, what is Dylan doing?  Not fretting one bit, he's still chillin' as shown above; is this is his dad in him?  I think so...

That's the other thing.  If I'm honest with myself reader, I'm wondering if I've done enough preparing Dylan for this type of situation.  He was only 6 when we buried Chad, his memories are feeble and are only bolstered when we spend deliberate time talking about him or surround him with those willing to dig past their pain to mention their memories of Chad.  His pain may be so distant compared to some others, will he be sensitive, considerate?  Will he feel like he has to take care of others because his memories and experience aren't as new?   Basically, did I do this right?!?

If you don't know me by now, you can trust that I'm praying about this. Things lined up within our schedules for Dylan to be here (no soccer games, no plans for us as a family) and he expressed sincere interest in being able to attend. When I asked him about 2 months ago, he replied with hesitation, "there'll be other kids like me?" - this sealed the deal for him...and for me.  I trust that this is one of those lessons that I get to learn about letting go; letting him grow from me and being reminded of how little control I have - no matter the work I've invested in him, he's growing up and away from me.

No matter how this camp goes, there's still hope.