As you may have guessed, I hate my blog. For a second there, I thought I hated blogging in general, but I don't think that's true.
I'm attempting something new. This is for me. I've pretty much given up on the idea of being a blogger with a large audience, but I welcome those of you who have stuck around.
I'm going the micro-blogging direction for a couple different reasons. 1) I can get content up without feeling pressure to come up with something interesting to say. 2) I can focus on practicing the kind of writing I'm actually somewhat good at: short prose and poetry. 3) It's more abstract, and I'm more abstract. I think I'll probably post some more about Ireland, but without all the "We did this, and then we did that, and later we saw this." I'd like to express the feeling of life, not just the facts. I'll save the play-by-play for Twitter. 4) Tumblr has sweet templates.
So, as they like to say in the blogosphere, hop on over and find me here: Herald. There'll be some repeat content for a little while, because this is a portfolio of sorts. I'm just getting it all out there.
Showing posts with label letting go. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letting go. Show all posts
Monday, November 16, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
1000 gifts (Blessing Permanence)
At least two people are considering making 1000 Gifts apart of their blogs, but more importantly apart of their lives! Here's more on why it's changing my life:
Just as my daughter is developing a sense of object permanence (the understanding that something or someone continues to exist even if they're not with her), I am developing "blessing permanence." God's loving gifts continue to flow in, and I don't need to grasp at or cling to them, as if they are the last taste of a good thing I will ever have.
And I've been convicted by Him that I want to choose my blessings. I want my life to look and feel a certain way (most often because I'm comparing it to someone else's). Instead of relishing the simple gifts that He lavishes on me, I am discontent and covetous. Even worse, I manhandle my life, as if I could somehow create my own blessing.
God wants me to live my life, the one He authors. It will be and is far more lovely than anything I can come up with on my own.
eighty-four.
Another heavenly walk: crisp fall air, bright blue sky, studded with white clouds, orange trees.
eighty-five.
Distant deer in the field.
eighty-six.
Three gray herons together.
eighty-seven.
Rocking my sweet girl to sleep; we are both at peace.
I'm almost to 100!
Just as my daughter is developing a sense of object permanence (the understanding that something or someone continues to exist even if they're not with her), I am developing "blessing permanence." God's loving gifts continue to flow in, and I don't need to grasp at or cling to them, as if they are the last taste of a good thing I will ever have.
And I've been convicted by Him that I want to choose my blessings. I want my life to look and feel a certain way (most often because I'm comparing it to someone else's). Instead of relishing the simple gifts that He lavishes on me, I am discontent and covetous. Even worse, I manhandle my life, as if I could somehow create my own blessing.
God wants me to live my life, the one He authors. It will be and is far more lovely than anything I can come up with on my own.
eighty-four.
Another heavenly walk: crisp fall air, bright blue sky, studded with white clouds, orange trees.
eighty-five.
Distant deer in the field.
eighty-six.
Three gray herons together.
eighty-seven.
Rocking my sweet girl to sleep; we are both at peace.
I'm almost to 100!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
just read when you want control
On Ellary’s first night at home with us, she seemed so vulnerable and alone, way over there in her cradle. (In truth, I could have touched her without getting out of bed.) And I cried a little before falling asleep. The first few weeks, I kept thinking her newborn grimaces meant I was doing something wrong and that she could somehow be happier if I worked harder.
And then there were the books: one said to hold her until she was sleeping deeply, another said to put her in bed still awake so that she could learn to soothe herself. One focused on bonding, another on training. One book was so specific about what to do when, that I started getting neurotic about Ellary’s schedule. Why wouldn’t she nap for longer than 20 minutes? Should I make her eat more? Does she need a baby massage perhaps?
I was desperate for control, and the books gave me a script to follow. While a few wise women told me to simply follow my instincts, I didn’t want that kind of flexibility. There was too much room to screw up. I thought I could force Ellary to fit inside my new mother parameters, and then I would know for sure that she was going to be alright. But alas, she was three weeks old or whatever; she didn’t exactly know how to make it work.
Now that Ellary is so obviously a “satisfied customer,” as my mom likes to say, I’m relaxing and realizing that the books are just anthologies of skills mothers have been learning for centuries. Instead of allowing myself the space to learn these things at my own pace and with Ellary’s particular phase of development, I was anxious and frustrated when the advice of others didn’t match my experience. For example, she never took naps during the first two months. One of my books instructed me on how to put a baby down for a nap, with five different steps. I tried them early on with no success, so I gave up. Lately Ellary's been taking great naps during the day, and I’ve noticed that all five of those steps are apart of the naptime ritual we’ve developed over the last month. Did the author instruct me on how to help my baby sleep? I don’t really think so. She just confirmed what I learned independently through the time I’ve had with Ellary.
I’m not throwing the baby out with the bathwater here. Heh heh. I’ve learned some invaluable information from the many books I’ve read, and the best results arise when I’m gleaning helpful hints from a variety of sources and using what works. But it must never be about control. It can’t be the result of fear. Babies are amazingly resilient and flexible--at least mine is. She’s learning just as much as I am, and we’re growing together. I’m thanking God that we’re doing just fine, and all is right in Ellary’s world. He’s given me an incredible gift in my ability to care for my child. I don’t have the books to thank for that.
And then there were the books: one said to hold her until she was sleeping deeply, another said to put her in bed still awake so that she could learn to soothe herself. One focused on bonding, another on training. One book was so specific about what to do when, that I started getting neurotic about Ellary’s schedule. Why wouldn’t she nap for longer than 20 minutes? Should I make her eat more? Does she need a baby massage perhaps?
I was desperate for control, and the books gave me a script to follow. While a few wise women told me to simply follow my instincts, I didn’t want that kind of flexibility. There was too much room to screw up. I thought I could force Ellary to fit inside my new mother parameters, and then I would know for sure that she was going to be alright. But alas, she was three weeks old or whatever; she didn’t exactly know how to make it work.
Now that Ellary is so obviously a “satisfied customer,” as my mom likes to say, I’m relaxing and realizing that the books are just anthologies of skills mothers have been learning for centuries. Instead of allowing myself the space to learn these things at my own pace and with Ellary’s particular phase of development, I was anxious and frustrated when the advice of others didn’t match my experience. For example, she never took naps during the first two months. One of my books instructed me on how to put a baby down for a nap, with five different steps. I tried them early on with no success, so I gave up. Lately Ellary's been taking great naps during the day, and I’ve noticed that all five of those steps are apart of the naptime ritual we’ve developed over the last month. Did the author instruct me on how to help my baby sleep? I don’t really think so. She just confirmed what I learned independently through the time I’ve had with Ellary.
I’m not throwing the baby out with the bathwater here. Heh heh. I’ve learned some invaluable information from the many books I’ve read, and the best results arise when I’m gleaning helpful hints from a variety of sources and using what works. But it must never be about control. It can’t be the result of fear. Babies are amazingly resilient and flexible--at least mine is. She’s learning just as much as I am, and we’re growing together. I’m thanking God that we’re doing just fine, and all is right in Ellary’s world. He’s given me an incredible gift in my ability to care for my child. I don’t have the books to thank for that.
Friday, August 29, 2008
disconcerting
Today, Krysta posted this link to some free music:
So far, I am enjoying me some JJ Heller; however, I decided to putz around on her website and found her blog. Turns out she's due to have a baby girl six days before me, and she has graced us with some lovely photos of her nursery (compliments of Lovely Little Things). If you're interested in decorating, you should really check it out.
Forgive me for feeling slightly deflated when I contemplated the current state of things in my own little girl's room:
Yikes. It's not even the right color.
So far, I am enjoying me some JJ Heller; however, I decided to putz around on her website and found her blog. Turns out she's due to have a baby girl six days before me, and she has graced us with some lovely photos of her nursery (compliments of Lovely Little Things). If you're interested in decorating, you should really check it out.
Forgive me for feeling slightly deflated when I contemplated the current state of things in my own little girl's room:
Yikes. It's not even the right color.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
bricks and bridges
I attempted to get up a little early this morning and post. Saturday mornings are even scheduled in as my "blog time." I'm really trying to develop a routine--maybe then I'd actually do this.
Baby steps. I only had a half hour to write this morning, and even then, I was late for work at the building. Today, risking frostbite, we loaded debris from out front into trash cans to be thrown in the giant dumpster around back. I'm pretty darn invested in this new auditorium, thanks to all the work the staff team has put into it.
--fundraising
--hours and hours of A2 Project mailings: printing, labeling, stuffing, sealing and stamping (there was always good conversation, plus bagels or pizza)
--moving lots of furniture around
--helping run a garage sale to get rid of furniture
--bringing concrete blocks from the demolished kitchen in the basement up the stairs to the dumpster (i earned the nickname "one million bobcats" during this activity, as well as some tumor-sized bruises on my forearms)
--sweeping and/or shop-vac-ing
--shoveling dirt for a staff-built retaining wall that now supports the stairs up to the main entry
--lugging more debris around
--giving tours
--attending wretchedly painful planning commission meetings
--praying
It is gonna be AWESOME to finally be in the new building, worshiping with 900 other people, most of whom I don't know, because they showed up to New Life and willingly stuffed themselves into the MLB, while we waited for a bigger auditorium.
The last week has been a good one. I'm learning more and more how to do life with my schedule, my responsibilities, my personality, and my capacity for handling stress. After December, which was a tough, burned-out month for me, I'm realizing that I need to slow down. My tendency is to try to shove my way through negative emotions, bull-dozing the pressure I feel with truth about my identity, instead of taking the time to understand the emotional stress I'm under. I read a great book about burn-out, and it helped me see how small things contribute to emotional exhaustion, especially for those of us who have a lower capacity for handling stressful situations. So SLOW DOWN is one of my mantras for 2007.
The other mantra is: cross that bridge when you come to it! I say this to myself so many times a day, it's crazy. The bottom line is clearly a true dependence on God that I've never experienced before this month. It's a "let tomorrow worry about itself" perspective. I'm not sure if this is biblical, but could it be true that God gives us the measure of faith we need just when we need it? Instead of wondering and worrying about if I'll have the faith to tackle an evangelism opportunity that's four days away, I'm learning to pray about it and then just leave it in the future. I may not have the faith for it now, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Instead of depending on my own ability to maintain an eternal perspective and believe truth about evangelism, I'm learning to let go and live life as it comes. Kevin keeps asking me, "What's your next bridge?" There couldn't be a better question for me right now. Sometimes it's just getting out of bed. Other times it's a bigger deal, but I'm seeing how it's possible for all aspects of life to be about depending on God.
I'm excited about this semester because of the deliberate slowing down that's happening and the time I get to hang out on lovely bridges. Life looks different. There's a lot ahead--another semester with a completely different schedule, a spring break trip, all sorts of stuff. But for the first time in a long time, I feel chilled out.
There are a few things that need tackling soon. I'm still having health problems, like a big fat migraine that kept me in bed until 3:30PM yesterday. I'm thinking more and more that it's a food allergy (maybe shellfish? I made myself a coconut curry seafood soup the other day). But I also need to get bloodwork done, to see if I have deficiencies or something. We'll see.
Baby steps. I only had a half hour to write this morning, and even then, I was late for work at the building. Today, risking frostbite, we loaded debris from out front into trash cans to be thrown in the giant dumpster around back. I'm pretty darn invested in this new auditorium, thanks to all the work the staff team has put into it.
--fundraising
--hours and hours of A2 Project mailings: printing, labeling, stuffing, sealing and stamping (there was always good conversation, plus bagels or pizza)
--moving lots of furniture around
--helping run a garage sale to get rid of furniture
--bringing concrete blocks from the demolished kitchen in the basement up the stairs to the dumpster (i earned the nickname "one million bobcats" during this activity, as well as some tumor-sized bruises on my forearms)
--sweeping and/or shop-vac-ing
--shoveling dirt for a staff-built retaining wall that now supports the stairs up to the main entry
--lugging more debris around
--giving tours
--attending wretchedly painful planning commission meetings
--praying
It is gonna be AWESOME to finally be in the new building, worshiping with 900 other people, most of whom I don't know, because they showed up to New Life and willingly stuffed themselves into the MLB, while we waited for a bigger auditorium.
The last week has been a good one. I'm learning more and more how to do life with my schedule, my responsibilities, my personality, and my capacity for handling stress. After December, which was a tough, burned-out month for me, I'm realizing that I need to slow down. My tendency is to try to shove my way through negative emotions, bull-dozing the pressure I feel with truth about my identity, instead of taking the time to understand the emotional stress I'm under. I read a great book about burn-out, and it helped me see how small things contribute to emotional exhaustion, especially for those of us who have a lower capacity for handling stressful situations. So SLOW DOWN is one of my mantras for 2007.
The other mantra is: cross that bridge when you come to it! I say this to myself so many times a day, it's crazy. The bottom line is clearly a true dependence on God that I've never experienced before this month. It's a "let tomorrow worry about itself" perspective. I'm not sure if this is biblical, but could it be true that God gives us the measure of faith we need just when we need it? Instead of wondering and worrying about if I'll have the faith to tackle an evangelism opportunity that's four days away, I'm learning to pray about it and then just leave it in the future. I may not have the faith for it now, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Instead of depending on my own ability to maintain an eternal perspective and believe truth about evangelism, I'm learning to let go and live life as it comes. Kevin keeps asking me, "What's your next bridge?" There couldn't be a better question for me right now. Sometimes it's just getting out of bed. Other times it's a bigger deal, but I'm seeing how it's possible for all aspects of life to be about depending on God.
I'm excited about this semester because of the deliberate slowing down that's happening and the time I get to hang out on lovely bridges. Life looks different. There's a lot ahead--another semester with a completely different schedule, a spring break trip, all sorts of stuff. But for the first time in a long time, I feel chilled out.
There are a few things that need tackling soon. I'm still having health problems, like a big fat migraine that kept me in bed until 3:30PM yesterday. I'm thinking more and more that it's a food allergy (maybe shellfish? I made myself a coconut curry seafood soup the other day). But I also need to get bloodwork done, to see if I have deficiencies or something. We'll see.
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