Come To Your Temple

I'm a big project person and once I get something in my head, it's nearly impossible for me to let it go until I've seen it through to completion. This week my project has been the flowerbeds in our front yard - hot mess flowerbeds that haven't really received attention in years, i.e. a little bit of hell on earth. To be honest, I had no idea how bad it actually was underneath the extremely overgrown monkey grass I thought I would rip out in one afternoon (HA!).

Circles

(Photo cred: Victoria Martinez)

The Lent season has become one of my favorite times of the year. Its partly the weather - the subtle transition from winter to spring that you can feel when the windows are open on breezy afternoons. Its partly the things you give up - while difficult, I love the space it creates for other things that matter so much more. I love the reflection and the meditation and the prayer. I love the feeling of being in a profoundly unique and meaningful season with millions of other Christians around the world. I love tradition - like lighting candles and praying prayers that will become more and more familiar to our boys over the years.  I love the awareness of the holes and the needs in our lives and the world around us, the poverty of our spiritual position, and the building anticipation and expectation of Easter - the celebration that our world isn't dark and lost and without hope anymore because we have a Savior who lives.

For the first week, we gave up social media. We deleted all forms of it from all of our electronic devices. It seems strange to me now that I felt an odd twinge of guilt at deleting everything without giving the social media world a heads up that we wouldn't be back for a while. It was also odd not knowing what everyone else is up to constantly - I actually have to text or call a friend to know how her week or her day is going.

Something else I realized this week: I apologize CONSTANTLY. "I'm sorry I forgot to text you back." "I'm sorry I haven't been able to tackle that yet." "I'm sorry I didn't respond to your message." "Sorry if this is inconvenient."

I say sorry for so many things I don't need to say sorry for. And it creates this idea that I owe people things that I don't owe them.

It also seems like Facebook messages and texting and Instagram stories and all of the other avenues for nonstop unbroken synthetic connection have created this idea that we need to be constantly available, connected, responsive. And I think we could maybe actually spin this in a positive way if it meant availability to and connection with those closest to us - like Daniel, Cohen, Everett and a small circle of friends. But it has almost the opposite effect. Like I'm constantly connected to and available for everyone who happens to be within any kind of cyberspace radius of me and in the meantime I'm missing out on moments of connection with my four-year-old and three-year-old.

Lately, I've found myself asking, "Why?" Why did I say yes to this obligation? Why did I take this responsibility on? Why did I make this commitment? I've found myself questioning so much of the "busy-ness" that has inundated our lives and feeling the deep and frightening conviction that I have sacrificed connection with my children and Daniel in order to be perceived as some kind of high-capacity, life-poured-out, yes-girl Christian, friend and worker. I think she deserves the approval and pat on the back that I want to use to meet a need somewhere deep-down inside of me.

I'm forcing my kids into a playroom and shutting the door so I can sweep the floors for the second time today so that I can look at my clean floors and feel like I'm the on-top-of-things mom. I'm shushing my kids and yelling at them when they don't shush so I can concentrate on work to meet a deadline I've enforced on myself because I didn't say no because I need to prove that I'm capable because if I'm not capable then I'm not enough and if I'm not enough then I'm not needed and if I'm not needed then what is my purpose? And I think it may be giving me anxiety and a stomach ulcer. On top of this, at night I lie awake feeling guilt because 95% of the time, Cohen and Everett are getting the anxious, spun-out version of their mom.

Recently I opened up to a friend about some of the above. Mostly I just said, "I'm so tired. And I don't know how to stop." And she told me about Shauna Niequist's book "Present Over Perfect". I started reading it yesterday and haven't put it down. It feels like she read my journal, or my mind, because some of these things felt too personal and scary to actually write down. Anyway, I highly recommend it if you're like me and feel mild anxiety at the thought of saying no to or disappointing someone and a compounded feeling of anxiety over all the things that have piled up on top of your life because you said "yes" to too much.

She talks about circles - drawing a circle around those closest to you, the ones you love the most and that you're the most responsible for. These are the ones you worry about disappointing.

I want to say yes. But I want to start saying yes for the right reasons. And mostly, I want to start saying yes to the things that will enrich the lives of the ones in that tiny little circle closest to home.

That's all I'll say for now because I'm still in the middle of the book. Also, today Everett peed on every rug in my house (potty training) and then while I was bathing him so he didn't smell like pee anymore, he pooped in the tub (WHYYY?? Also, sorry future adult Everett for putting that out there on the internet). I'm feeling like both boys (and myself) may need some hugs and Lego building and sauvignon blanc.

"Let Me Go There"

The birth and incarnation of Christ... After all these years, after a hundred tellings and re-tellings and plays and movies and readings and poems and sermons, sometimes I hear it and it feels like more of a familiar story, a tenet of my faith, a piece of the bigger picture of the Gospel story, and not something alive and WONDERful and mind-blowing in its own right. 

Confessions of a Mom Who Wants to Quit

It's 6:30 am. Outside, the dark sky is taking on the hushed and smoky light of early dawn. Inside, the house is quiet and dark. Until an alarm goes off. Only it's not an actual alarm; it's the little voices of two boys standing next to my bed, bare feet on cold hardwoods. Crazy morning hair is standing up and sticking out in all directions (they both NEED a haircut), Everett is half-dressed (it's his thing lately) aaaaand they both have something brown smudged across their faces.

What Love Is

Well it's Valentine's Day. And this morning as I was sipping on coffee and doing the routine perusing of Facebook and Instagram feeds, I saw the flowers, the chocolates, the date nights, the extravagant gestures and it was all very heart-warming. Then I stumbled across this status update from a man