Category Archives: Personal

About me and/or for my benefit

Not Just Staying Home (Part 1 of 2)

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A recent conversation— sparked by my recommendation of this book— has made me think about a paradox I feel in my life. (I wonder how many women share this feeling/awareness…):

I am a huge cheerleader for moms staying at home to care for their families (and I unreservedly think it’s God’s “best plan,” along with two-parent families and living debt-free), but I don’t think it’s the be-all, end-all of my life.

And I don’t think this contradicts scripture.

For one thing, my life doesn’t end when they leave, and that, combined with the fact that God continually grows us, leads me to the conclusion he’s got plans for me beyond my time home with them.

I think they are the most important assignment I will ever have, but they are just one part of my life, not the whole thing.

This is what makes me think my desire to write is more than a distraction. I believe it is a part of me, useful in my parenting journey, that will not be fully explored until my first assignment is fulfilled.

But this awareness of– what can I call it?– a life beyond (within?) my role as a home-keeper, left me feeling hobbled in an uncomfortable conversation I recently got caught in.

I was subjected to… not outright derision at me and my career choice, but snarky jabs at women who do what it looks like I do.

For the first time in my life I think I understand what wounded feminists are trying to label “The Patriarchy,” and the bruises inflicted by subtle racism.

I am fairly sure this was not meant to be mean in a conscious way. It was a mouth speaking out of the overflow of his heart.

Apparently I have lived an *amazingly* sheltered 28+ years.

Among other things, I heard that overused refrain about women who are lost once their children are gone and *need* someone to nurture but there’s no one left.

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Made for This

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Do you ever get the idea that you’ve been in training all your life for something, and didn’t know it?

And, maybe, the quirky parts of your personality that felt more distracting than helpful, that they advanced this something?

I have been wrestling the ugly side of my propensities for as long as I can remember (well, at least since 8 or 9), and my distaste of those things have made me distrust even the strengths that are related to those weaknesses.

And now (in the rare moments that allow me to think on it), I’m beginning to see things that I viewed in generous moments merely as distractions have a purpose.

~ ~ ~

Sorry for the lack of specifics, but wanted this to be applicable to more than me.

My example just now is very specific:

I have a propensity to latch onto an idea, research the snot out of it, collect what is interesting to me now or might be useful later.

Then it gets essentially left behind except for the (potentially) new angle it gave me of looking at reality.

Then after a while I do it again.

This is nearly compulsive for me; I may have mentioned here before that I get a type of buzz out of it.

It’s just recently, as I’ve been learning more about the teaching side of homeschooling (and solidifying how I want to do it), that I’m seeing this pattern is *very* conducive to my current plan of compiling and creating my own teaching content.

Anything you want to teach you must either know already or learn before/along with your pupil(s).

Something that embarrassed me (This is *such* a waste of time! Why do I love it?) has essentially been training for more purposeful stuff I expect to be doing increasingly in coming years.

~

Realizations like these are *so* encouraging, and I can see parallels in other areas that would be even harder to describe.

I may still be struggling with the same propensities and sins that I recognized at 9, and 14 ,and 22, and 27, but at least I can see they have become more subtle or disguised.

This is positive not because I delight in hiding things, but because it means I’m being faced with new– sometimes more challenging– tests, rather than the same ones over and over again.

I feel reassured that I am growing up.

Quick question:

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Have any of you readers put a recording of yourself on-line?  (Dedee I remember you mentioning a video of you directing ;) )

I have a couple older hymns I was wanting to share (since they’re out of copyright and won’t get me in trouble), but I’m not sure of the best way to do it.  YouTube?  Digital recording?

Jay will work something out, I’m sure, I just wondered if there were any voices of experience out there.

The Wailin’ Jennys

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This is the song the ladies opened with last night.

I love the sound, but I think it’s a funny/odd song because I hear “there’s only one way to mend a broken heart” over and over without being sure what they think that one-way is. ;)

Live music is, just. wonderful.

Sometimes I’m surprised to be reminded how much it affects me, and it makes me think again about how I believe we humans are designed for community and to be steeped in music.

A few more videos to show the group’s variety:

Their website is here if you want to see if their latest tour brings them near you (sounds like they have a weird-crazy itinerary this time). You should go listen if you get the chance.

Absolutely worth it.

Mom Was Right

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I’m not a person who usually minds that.

But hearing “You’ll figure it out eventually,” can sound very empty and frustrating when you don’t know if it’s true.

You know, one of those “Mom’s being encouraging” lines you never know if you can trust. Like, “Of course you’re beautiful.”

I used to fight rolling my eyes when I heard that one.

Some months ago I was describing to her my various attempts at differing systems of getting home-things done.

Systems that work in theory, and maybe even in real life before old habits resume control, but die pathetically as I run out of energy trying to maintain someone else’s personality.

Some of those systems, looking at them now, seem like having another woman running things in your house. She knows what she’s doing and has proven she’s better at it.

But, doggone it, it’s my house. This just isn’t going to work unless I change or they change.

So I changed. To something altogether different, even from them.

I’ve been two or three weeks in this new person’s body and mind, and I’m starting to get a little tense.

I sort of like this new me. I find myself wondering if this is a change God has made that will become my new normal, or whether I’ll suddenly get tired and it’ll all fall apart.

This is (in a weird way) fun to write down, because I actually feel more confident having aired that.

~

Right before I got engaged, I was so relieved to hear my mom balance out the twitterpated sighs of all my newlywed friends:

“You’ll just know!“

I didn’t, so it was validating that my mother (still happily married to my father) didn’t either.

~

So I was quite disappointed to hear the homemaking version of the same line:

“You’ll figure it out.”

I didn’t want to figure it out. I wanted it to be a logical formula someone else had figured out and could hand me. That doable time-table that would bring peace and order to my life.

But it didn’t work that way.

The almost disappointing thing is that I don’t have any better advice to offer anyone coming after me (You know how I love to give advice…).

Sure I was seeking God, but— in theory at least— I’ve been seeking him about this for years. So this may be my first experience with seeing the fruition of years of prayer. Who knows?

But one of the biggest (and ineffable) lessons I have been learning lately is how different every family is. And just as each of us have to learn individually how to deal with (say) temptation, there are some things we are just never going to get except by doing and living.

So Mom was right. (Hi, Mom! Are you reading this?) I finally feel like I am figuring this out.

There’s been no “glory and trumpets,” and I’ve wondered a few times lately when this change began (it’s been pretty quick– happening in days/ weeks, not months).

No giddy excitement or *boom* of God’s presence.

But there is sweet warm oatmeal with strawberries, and children who delight in music, who ask me to snuggle with them while we watch their cartoons.

And peace and contentment.

God does give us the desires of our hearts. He planted in me the want for peaceful home and He is bringing that desire to fruition.

And I praise him for it.

“All reality is Iconoclastic.”

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From C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed:

My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time.

He shatters it himself. He is the great iconoclast.

Could we not say that this shattering is one of the marks of his presence? The Incarnation is the supreme example; it leaves all previous ideas of the messiah in ruins. And most are “offended” by the iconoclasm; and blessed are those who are not. But the same thing happens in our private prayers.

All reality iconoclastic.

Really, I think this is what I’m trying to articulate whenever I talk about things like this or this. (Okay, okay, “The Trouble With Beauty” and “The Offense of the Gospel” for those of you who hate blind clicks. ;) )

I’ve made a shift in the last two weeks, with the only thing written down more than a day ahead being meals.

Maybe I’ll be able to articulate it better in the future, but I wanted to say that I have put away my attempts at the card-file (a system for maintaining house), and weekly to-do lists, and have started just “doing what I see.”

Don’t worry, I’ve always had “selective seeing.”

Sallie’s recent post articulated this so perfectly:

I have come to the conclusion that [scheduling] is an area in which God is not going to allow me to be successful because He wants me to be dependent on Him. I say that in all seriousness, with no jesting. We’ve prayed about it, we’ve strategized, we’ve made commitments, and it simply does not work. I have to believe that God has a bigger purpose in my sanctification than keeping a nice schedule.

I love this image of daily dependency. It brings what has sometimes been an intangible something called a “spiritual discipline” into a realm where I can see it.

What is surprising me (the current “iconoclast”) is how my life feels more peaceful and complete just now than is often has when I was wrestling with a schedule.

Character Songs

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One thing that always seems “magical” to me is when I hear a song (usually on the radio, but it’s also happened in a store) with a message, sound or single line that perfectly encapsulates a personality, action beat or relationship.

I initially noticed this when I was working on my first novel, and heard a line from “For the Longest Time” by Billy Joel:

And the greatest miracle of all
Is how I need you
And how you needed me too
That hasn’t happened for the longest time

It was the heart of the first part of the novel and their interaction.

So here are some highlights for my current work (don’t read anything into the videos– I never saw them before I did a search for the song itself. YouTube is an *awesome* substitute for iTunes– I just don’t watch while I’m listening if it’s for the sound, like here).

I guess I’m more auditory than visual, because if I’m going to be imagining for a while, it’s with music rather than images. I think these examples hint at the individual conflicts of interest that arise in my novel.

Includes the lines,

“…I feel so small and bewildered…
Tell me that you love me, tell me that you want me
Even if I’m not all you thought I would be.
Tell me that … you’ll catch me when I fall.”

Cecilia is the bride arranged for the crown prince Torbjorn, and I love this sweet wistful song for her. Torb doesn’t have a song of his own yet, but (jokingly) I’ve assigned him “I knew I loved you before I met you,” as his relationship song, because he’s that kind of guy— one who makes up his mind and that’s the way it is.

“My Desk” meme

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So I caved and did it here rather than there.

I think it’s because I just cleaned it two days ago so I could follow the “don’t mess with it” rule and still not feel ashamed ;o)

desk.jpg

You can click that if you need a bigger pix to analyze me ;)

But since it’s still hard to “read” I’ll give you the tour (of the un-obvious stuff):

  • Recipes (from yesterday’s meal-planning)
  • an Alaskan wedding invite (the red thing)
  • homeschool books (I’m currently trying to decide if NJ should be taught Kindergarten or 1st grade, come fall)
  • my topical notebook (I’ll have to do a post about this sometime)
    • has different sections for my kids, husband, guitar, novel and homeschool stuff– keeps me from being totally scattered
  • Lindorm folder with my research/plotting notes or questions and the current manuscript (that I still need to start rereading)
  • Lamp I was reading by during a power-out last week
  • two tea pots (can you find #2?) because of my growing re-interest in tea
  • two card-files I’m trying to re-integrate in my life: one for recipes and one to codify chore frequency.
  • hard to see behind the cup and plant: the insert for the Broadway Lion King CD.

One thing you can’t see is the legs of the desk— this was a “scavenged” surface my husband brought home and crafted legs to be just the right hight for me. It the only surface I’ve ever sat at properly in an ordinary chair. It’s the perfect hight whether I’m sewing or typing.

So the desk does say a lot about me– what I’m doing, what I want to be important to me. Even relationship, and how well I’m taken care of (though that part had to be explained).

Anybody else want to play (or give me the link to where you’ve played before)?

I always wondered…

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Really, I have guessed I was what the elementary schools would have labeled “gifted” when I was in school. (Being homeschooled most of my elementary experience I didn’t really have many to compare myself to.)

A comment in my latest read made me think of it:

A piano teacher told me gifted children were the very hardest to teach because they expected to be able to sit at a piano and instantly play.

I can *so* relate to this.

So many things have happened easily for me that when something is challenging I find myself wagging my head for a moment like a dizzy puppy before deciding whether to continue.

My rational side says, Of course. This is a skill, it requires investment.

My {whatever you want to call the} other side whines It’s just not *natural* for it to be this hard!

This happens mainly for me with instruments, but also with my current stage of noveling.

This commentary of Bittner’s (author of the book linked above) on the topic of giftedness is so good:

Capable children must learn to struggle through challenging tasks.

There is no possible way they can get through their entire lives without encountering something they can’t do well, and it’s better for them to learn how to work hard at something when they are still young enough to receive your guidance and encouragement…

When he pleads to quit, or loses his temper because the subject isn’t going well, be gentle and encouraging, but firm. Tell him he must continue to work at this, but show him how to tackle the project.

This is the role I’d been trying to get Jay to take in relation to something— anything— challenging that I’m drawn to. I finally asked him if he could chose something for me. Something he liked that he could own as important to him too.

I wanted to be able to “plead to quit, or lose [my] temper because [X] isn’t going well” and still have that gentle encouragement I need to keep on.

Jay picked the novel, and I felt this lovely rush of relief (almost like the other options were even more work) and thanked him for his choice.

So, while the process isn’t moving much faster than it was, my mental energy is less scattered, and that’s what I attribute this week’s successes to.

I am “almost” done with my first draft, but my structure and time-frame have changed significantly, requiring another read-through with cutting and re-ordering.

I have a printout sitting on my desk that is intimidating in it’s hight.

“And it’s not not even a whole novel!” I moaned, thinking of the amount of work left.

Jay’s calm answer: “It’s a whole lot of a novel.”

See, he’s already doing his job. :)