Busy

We live in a very busy corner of a busy world.  Busy is the watchword of our day.  We wear it like a badge of honor sometimes.  I hate to admit that I have played the "see how busy I am" game too many times with others. It feels productive and important and vital. 

Because there are 4 boys involved with at least one activity each, we have been genuinely busy for most of the recent past.  This was a typical spring schedule on our calendar.


We have struggled to get four boys to four games in the same day more times than I would like to recount.  But what has all of this gotten me?  Well--sick for one--stressed out beyond my capacity to cope.  I've gotten better over the years, and I would not trade those days.  We enjoyed watching our children play sports, and I certainly would not begrudge them those experiences. 

Things have slowed now that the main culprit lives 3 hours away and the middle two have retired their cleats for the most part.  But I find myself looking for ways to be busy, to fill my days, to be doing important things.  I feel guilty when I'm not doing.  When did our culture change from valuing "being" as well as "doing"?  I'm not sure, but I think we've lost much in that evolution. 

I have been studying the book of Genesis with a couple of my favorite college girls. God told Abram that He would make him into a great nation.  Twenty-five years later he's not only 99 years old, but he's still childless.  God and a couple of angels appeared to him while he was sitting under a tree, and Abram insisted that they stay for a meal.  To prepare for this meal, he had Sarai grind grain while he chose a choice calf for the meal.  There were no microwaves.  This took time.  God is not in a hurry, so how much of God am I missing by being so busy and always in a hurry?  No wonder we don't hear from God.  When do we have time to listen?  When can God interrupt my day for a dinner that I would have to thaw out and start from scratch?  I don't know, but if I continue to fill my calendar with my things then will God stop trying to focus my attention on His things? 

 

Some of our best times have been when we sat in our back yard with friends and family and just enjoyed the moment.  I cherish that time of just "being."  It restores my soul.  God is trying to remind me of that each day as I struggle with the search for significance.  Isaiah 40 says, "those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength."  Maybe the lesson really isn't don't be busy but rather be available to the God who will strengthen you to act. 

What to do? Part 2

On the other hand....

When I was a brand new Christian someone challenged me to read through the Bible in a year.  I took that challenge and am so thankful I did.  I loved it (and still do)!  It made sense.  It spoke to the deep places in my heart and soul.  I relished the history of the Old Testament and was fed on the words of the New Testament.  It brought joy to see how God's plan really fit together and how clearly it is spelled out in the Scriptures.

We have been so blessed to be in churches that teach right from God's Word each week both in Sunday School and services.  We also joined a group of friends to study the Bible and do life together.  It was transformational.

I continued to read and learn more about God's Word and started to teach it some too.  What a blessing!  What fulfillment that gave me!  I recall sitting in a Precepts Bible Study class on Covenant and thinking, "I wish I could do this for a living!"  One of my great passions is to teach God's Word and to see people's eyes opened to the Truth.  It satisfies me in a way that nothing else does.

Two weeks ago we had a church meeting to discuss where we are headed.  Each person had an opportunity to share something that God is doing.  My eyes teared up and my pulse quickened.  I thought, "This is it.  This is how I want to spend my life."  I just don't yet know what that looks like.

Thus my dilemma--work to make money to pay for college or pursue my passion.  I guess in reality we all face this choice many times over.  I met with a couple of friends this week and was challenged to write down what the perfect job looks like.  I'm struggling with putting it into words, because I guess I don't know.  I was really becoming unhinged over these things and had lunch with Chris to discuss them.  He encouraged me to follow my desires.  I was ready to move.  That night I couldn't sleep.  I opened God's Word and, as only He can, He quickly directed me to Proverbs 19:1, "It is not good to have zeal without knowledge.  Don't be hasty and miss the way."  What a precious answer--even though it's still "wait."  He has a plan for me.  He hasn't forgotten me.  He know that I want to know the way.  I praise God for this.  I could again just let go of my thoughts and my obsessing and settle in to wait on Him some more.  How thankful I am that I listened BEFORE falling on my face and having to pick up the pieces.

What to do?

As a child I thought I knew what I wanted to do.  My mom and grandma were both teachers, and I really liked writing on the chalkboard, so if someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, "a teacher."  I have had some excellent teachers in my life, and I especially loved my English and band teachers.  Although band was my life, I settled on English.  I liked it, I was pretty good at it, and I loved to read.

When I graduated from high school I knew what I wanted to do.  I was headed to college to pursue a degree in English and Secondary Education and marry my sweetheart.  That was the plan. 

College was fun and useful.  I learned a lot and enjoyed my experiences in the classroom.  I was also married and, at the end, expecting.  Upon college graduation I knew exactly what I wanted to do--be a momma to my sweet little baby boy.

 

 

 There was no doubt in my mind.  That's what I was made for, and that was God's plan for me.  Then I become the momma of some more sweet little boys.

  Although I'd rank the whole mommy experience as, by far, the most difficult and demanding thing I'd ever done, I knew that it was exactly what I was supposed to do.  Thankfully Chris supported that decision and had a job that would enable me to be home.  There were times when I railed against staying home and desired the glamor of a "real" job.  I would volunteer for more than I could handle or accept a position that I thought would fulfill that desire, but God patiently waited for me to fall on my face and then would direct me back home where I needed to be. 
Now, however, my sweet little boys aren't so little anymore.

  They are growing and leaving.  They don't need me like they used to.  I find myself thinking, "what's next" a lot lately--probably to the point of obsessing.  I enjoyed subbing long term this year.  I felt that I could handle that and home, but I didn't have to do the planning or the grading.  My very conscientious friend had done all the hard work for me.  I just had to show up and enjoy the classes.  Am I afraid of the work load of a high school English teacher?  YES! Grading 120 research papers is no picnic. But I love the students and cherished building relationships with them.  I also enjoyed using parts of my brain that I haven't visited for a while.  I know myself though and would quickly become consumed with it to the detriment of my family and relationships. I certainly need to learn how to leave work at work.  I spent most of my free time thinking about the last classes, and I was only the sub!  So is that the plan?  Should I pursue this?  I don't know.  Maybe.  But maybe not. 

Next time I'll obsess a little more :)

Intentionality

I'm afraid to even start again, but here goes.  I've been wanting to write, or at least practice writing, for a while, but I never take the time.  I am an A-1 procrastinator, but I do it with style.  There is always work to be done, and I justify my lack of attention to writing with the lie that it isn't as important as working.  Perhaps today is the start of something new--or perhaps not.  I guess time will tell whether my intentions or my rut will win. 

I was surprised this morning as I listened to "Revive Our Hearts," a radio program taught by Nancy Leigh DeMoss. She is teaching about encouragement and how important it is to be an encourager when I realized that, although I know this, I had completely forgotten that encouraging others should be a priority in my life.  As I thought about this I was shocked at how far I'd strayed from being intentional about many things.  It seems that life just keeps churning and, if I'm not careful--which I haven't been--time goes by, and I've left so many important things undone.  How did I get here?  I don't even know.  The urgent outstrips the important.  I learned many years ago that I am not a good multitasker when it comes to big things.  I can only focus on one priority at a time.  I started working a lot more this year, and maybe that is what happened to my intentionality. 

My goal is to focus on the important things in life: God, relationships, encouragement, thankfulness.  I've decided to make a list.  I've done some brainstorming and have come up with some things, but I'm still working on it.  Now I need to remember to look at that list and to actually plan ways to follow through.  I'm hoping that by writing some more here I will be more accountable to it.

 Life goes by so quickly, and I don't want to look back regretting that I did nothing but cook, clean, wash, and drive.  Another goal is to not forget about this in a month and go back to the way things are because that's easier.  I need help!  I'm praying for God's direction and for focus, and I'm going to try to write twice a week.  We'll see.....

 

 

A Letter

Dear Dad,
     I have been missing you this week.  I wanted to call for Father's Day, but there isn't a connection.   I miss talking with you.  You listened to me and knew who I was.  You really listened.  You knew me.  You knew what I liked. You knew what I would wear when you were buying presents.  You knew what I was thinking--at least sometimes.  I miss that.  I'm thankful that you loved me.   Since I was small I knew that you loved me.  That is a gift.  I love thinking about you laughing so hard that you almost fell out of the chair.  When I pass an old car I think of you.  We saw a U-haul truck with antique license plates.  That made me want to call you. 
     I'm sorry that life was hard for you, but you made it so that life wasn't so hard for me.  I have thought about you many times and had some new insights recently.  I'm just sorry that it wasn't until after you died.  One day I was having a hard time with my emotions.  I said some things harshly to the boys that I shouldn't have said.  I went to the kitchen and thought, "I hope they know that I don't want to be this way--that I really love them."  Then it hit me.  I bet you thought that too.  I bet there were many times when you wished you were different--when you wished that you could deal with your emotions better and that we would know how you really felt inside.  I get that now.  I haven't ever gotten that before. 
      Peter and I read a book about a man who returned from WWII after being a prisoner of war.  He had such a hard time adjusting to life back home, and many of the descriptions of his demeanor and actions reminded me of you.  I had a hard time even reading some of it.  I bet that some of those words and actions stemmed from you being in a war.  I didn't understand.  I couldn't probably.  I'm sorry that you didn't have time or opportunity to heal from that.  Reading about this helped me to understand you better.  I wish it would have happened years ago. 
     I love you Dad.  I miss you.  I wish you were here.
                                                                                                 Love,
                                                                                                 Paula

Field trip

I miss blogging!  I do.  I struggle with perfectionism and what to say, but I miss just doing it.  So I'm going to attempt this again. 

Today we went to the Holocaust Museum in DC.  The electric company said that our power would be out for much of the day, and Peter and I are studying World War II, so it seemed like a good day to go.  I was a little hesitant about going with Peter.  He doesn't like violence of any sort.  He's very sensitive to movies and television.  He will leave if things get too violent (and it's not like we watch those kinds of movies anyway!)  But this is a lesson we need to learn over and over again to prevent this kind of barbarism from repeating itself.   Ben decided to go too and miss a day of school.  Big shock, I know.  But they did just finish reading Night by Elie Wiesel, about his time in a concentration camp.  This relates.  Chris came with us too since he wouldn't be able to work with the power out. 

I have to say they did very well in the museum.  It's not a place that will restore your soul or bring you joy.  The images are surreal.  To watch Hitler's rise to power because of fear and hatred and violence is frightening.  It's hard to even imagine that there are people in the world capable of such evils, but in reality there are.  How does a society let something like this happen?  And how do you move on from that experience?  So many people just ripped from their homes and subjected to the worst horrors that one can imagine.  Babies, children, moms, grandmas--all of them annihilated because someone thought they weren't worthy of life.  I was intrigued by a book called How do you Kill Eleven Million People? by Andy Andrews.  That question is playing in my mind.  What role do I play?  How do I live to make a difference for good in the world?  Could it happen again?  Is it already happening today in the world?  The boys may not remember much about today next year or even next week, but I pray that they will be moved with compassion for those who are oppressed. 

My Men

 I have been surrounded by males all my life.  Growing up I had 2 brothers, no sisters.  We played lots of boy things and our home was pretty noisy.  Now with 4 boys that hasn't changed.  They like things like super heroes and guns.  They have contests regularly because winning IS that important.  They value strength and speed. 

 They do things like this--note the projectile flying through the air.  The other day Ben was trying to work on his AP Government on the computer when Chris came up behind him and shot him in the head with a Nerf dart.  It's a common occurrence. 

 There tends to be wrestling--often.  And usually it's in the dining room/kitchen area.  Everyone is out to bring Dad down.  I don't get it.  I remember when I would wrestle with them when they were little.  Once Sam, who was about 18 months or so, sat on my head while I was wrestling Ben and Fred.  That was the end of my wrestling 3 at once. 

 I love these men!  I remember when we found out that we were having another boy.  I mourned for the loss of reading Anne of Green Gables and Little House on the Prairie together and the various other things you think of when you think you are going to be the mom of a daughter.  That lasted about 20 minutes, and I've not looked back since. 

I am blessed to be surrounded by such wonderful young (and not so young) men.  I have come to respect and value those qualities of manliness that exude from our home.  I love that they don't carry grudges--they are over it in about 3 minutes.  I love that they are strong and brave in the face of real and imagined dangers.  I love that they can lift things and open things.  And I also love that they will listen to Anne of Green Gables  even though they are stunned at the amount of words she uses, and that one of their very favorite movies is The Princess Bride.