“Lint”en Prayers

This was a post I wrote last year, but it is one of my favorite posts so I broke it out of the archives.

This year for lent, I am trying to explore various forms of prayer.  I love the idea of prayer: talking to God, listening to God.  But I’m not very good at it.  Often when I sit down and start to pray, my mind begins to wonder.  Instead of actually praying, I usually end up making a to do list for the day, or wondering what in the world that noise in the playroom was and if I should go be a mediator between Thing One and Thing Two.

I bought a book a few weeks ago called Praying in Color by Sybil MacBeth. I’ve read the book and done a few colorful prayers, and it is right up my alley!  It’s really perfect for anyone who likes to doodle.  And after doing one, I feel like I’ve paid more attention than in my usual try-to-put-my-thoughts-into-sentences prayer.  When I’m praying in color, it’s easy for me to focus on one specific thing.  You start out by drawing a shape.  The shape may have some significance(like a heart if you are praying for a newlywed couple, or the shape of a pill if someone is battling an illness) or you can just draw a random shape.  Then you add the name(s) of the person(s) for whom you are praying.  Then you can color it in, and add dots, dashes and lines.  While doing this, try and focus on that person.  Don’t worry about forming coherent thoughts or trying to verbalize a prayer.  Let each penstroke be a prayer.  And then throughout the day, try to visualize the shape you drew for Person A and say a quick prayer for that person.  If you drew a pill shape and then go to take your vitamins, pray for Person B.  It may seem kind of silly to you…I don’t know.  But I’m a visual person, and it helps me.  And its something I can do while my kids are in the room because I zone out(like I’m not able to do while praying “traditionally”).

**Want to try praying in color?  Get the book here!**

This morning I really wanted to do a color prayer.  However, Asa apparently didn’t want me to.  :-)   Although I can do it while the kids are in the room, I can’t do it while I’m holding one of them.  So I strapped him on in my sling and went off to do the laundry, hoping to get back to the color prayer before our playdate this morning.  But as I began to pull the laundry out of the dryer, I thought: Why not make doing laundry into a prayer time?  So as I would pull out Carter’s shirt or Lydia’s pjs, I would pray for each of them.  When I pulled out a pair Marshall’s work pants, I prayed that God would give him wisdom with a particular patient’s issue.  With Asa’s bib, I thanked God that he doesn’t have reflux.  Folding Carter’s socks(which doesn’t take long, I know), I thanked God that eventhough his feet are abnormal, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by that.  And with Lydia’s dress, I prayed for the day when I’d see her in a wedding dress instead of little pink dresses with butterflies.  And I prayed for the person she may one day marry.  Each piece of clothing went like that: one piece of clothing, one quick prayer.

So what today began as a Lenten prayer became a “lint”en prayer.  Without looking for new opportunities to pray, I’m not sure I would have found God in the laundry basket.

Rawr!

A few weeks ago I read this post and sobbed.  (I’ll give you a second to click on over there and read it.)
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Was that long enough??  It really is a must read!

Anyway, my friend Renee from But Why Mommy is waiting for her son, nicknamed Lion, to come home from Ethiopia.

Renee and her husband adopted a daughter(Bunny) from China a few years ago.
And now, they wait…and wait…and wait for the opportunity to go get her little brother, their son.

They are so close, yet so far.
They what he looks like and they know his stats, but they don’t know what it feels like to hold him in their arms.
Yet.
So close.
And while they wait, we(Renee’s internet posse) want to celebrate Lion, celebrate the family they are becoming.

Congrats, Renee & Frink!
Congrats,  Bunny!

We know he’s already in your hearts, but we can’t wait to see him in your arms!

I’m not who I used to be or who I want to be.

**After I’d already written this post and scheduled it to go up, I read this post by DesignHerMomma.
And apparently there’s an epidemic of this because Jenny wrote about this, too.

A girl’s weekend of Bliss.

surprise get-a-way with my husband.

Some time away from the kids and my volunteer job.

I needed those.

And in many ways I do feel rejuvenated, renewed.

I’m happy to be back with my kids.  They’re funny and adorable and super squeezeable.

But I’m not glad to be back to a schedule I can’t seem to keep up with,
deadlines looming over my head, and plans that desperately need to be made.

My house is a disaster.
I haven’t edited photos in weeks.
I finally finished my book for book club, and I’d like to start another one but I know I don’t have time.

While Marshall and I were on our mini-vacation, we had a lot of time to talk.
(We also had a lot of time to just be quiet and enjoy that comfortable silence that never happens in a house with 3 kids.)
We talked a lot about my feeling disconnected and out-of-touch with him, my friends, even myself.
As usual, he was kind and understanding, wanting to help me
but willing to give me time and space to figure it out on my own.
(Have I mentioned how much I love him?)
We talked about what was holding me back from being content.
We talked about depression.  And he and I both agreed that this time it’s different.
I’m not depressed, but I am out of sorts.

I think part of the problem is that I’m just tired.
I bit off more than I can chew.
I see that now, but I can’t stop.
I will finish my commitments.
I will do my best.
But in the future, I’ll take saying “yes” more seriously.
I’ll quit giving an automatic “yes” to every request.
I’ll start pausing, thinking.

Someone once told me that you don’t really find yourself until you’re 34.
That’s her opinion, and I don’t think it’s true for everyone…
But I have to admit that I’m wondering if she didn’t have a point.

I look back at how much I’ve changed since we got married,
since Marshall started med school,
since I became a mother,
since I moved back to my hometown.

And I’ve looked at my mentors and heroes for inspiration about who I want to become.
And I’ve read scriptures that I hope guide my way to becoming the woman I want to be.

I’m not who I used to be or who I want to be.
And maybe that’s a good thing.

Apparently I only have 3 1/2 more years to figure out who I am.

Some where along the way I lost myself.

I fill lots of roles.  I do lots of things.  I go lots of places.

But in all this doing and going and going and doing, I seem to have somehow gotten lost.

For the past few weeks(months, really), I’ve really been struggling with my purpose, my passion.

Once upon a time(not so very long ago),
I was fire-y.
I was quick-witted and funny.
I was someone that other people wanted to be around.

But now?
Instead of being the kind of fire-y that makes you smile, I’m the kind of fire-y that makes you roll your eyes.
Instead of quick wit and jokes, I tend to get stuck in my own mind…unable to verbalize my thoughts.
Instead of being fun and exciting, I struggle to stay awake and make even polite conversation.

In an effort to become more, to do more, to love more…
In an effort to be the best I can be, do the most I can, help as many as possible…
I forgot that I have to make an effort to just be me.

I’m tired.
I’m weary.
I’m worn-down.

Even after a weekend of recharging, I’m dreading the days to come.

Something’s gotta give.

It’s not going to be my children.
It’s not going to be my marriage.
It’s not going to be my friends or my faith or my writing.

Oh, how I need my family and friends and faith right now.
And my writing?  I can’t stop it from coming.
Even when I step away from the computer, the writing is still there, filling page after page in my trusty, battered notebook.
Sometimes the words are my own, sometimes comforting words from others.
Bible verses.  Sacred words.
Scribbled quickly.
Or delicately and patiently drawn and decorated.
Praying in color.
Praying with a hodge-podge assortment of words that sometimes don’t even make sense to me.
Searching.  Longing.  Wishing.  Hoping.  Seeking.

What is my passion?

What stirs my soul?

I’m not sure anymore.

But I’m not giving up.
I’m still listening to that soft voice inside my heart and my head.

I will find me again.

Feb 5, 2010

At BlissdomAmber from the run-a-muck said something in one of the sessions that really resonated with me.
It obviously hit home for a lot of folks because I saw it all over twitter for several days.  She said:

My blog is a good place for you to get to know me, but my blog is also a good place for me to get to know me.

And she’s right.
It’s through my writings and ramblings that I am really figuring out who I am, what I am, and what I’m going to be.

All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing*

Today in my hometown a 14 year old girl was hit by a car and killed.   I know her brother.  I’m friends with his girlfriend.

This morning, while still in that foggy land between asleep and awake, I heard my phone vibrate.
Innocently I glanced at my overnight emails that had come through before I looked at the message that had just arrived:  please pray for my boyfriend’s sister.

Twenty-two minutes later I got a final text: she didn’t make it.

A girl I had never met.  A friend of a friend.  A 14 year old girl.

I couldn’t help it.  I started to cry.  Ugly cry.

My kids stared at me blankly.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

I told them.

A girl was hit by a car.  She died.

“Let’s pray for her mommy and daddy and brother, ok?”

(Was I too open with them?  They’re only three and five.)

I know I’m not the only one holding my kids a little tighter tonight.

****

Alone in the car, after going to see the family, my heart and my mind are searching.

I’m already angry with God.  Confused.

So young.  So much promise.

Gone.

Gone.

I wonder…can’t help but wonder…

What if it were me?

What if it were my child?

How can you, as a parent, not think that?

How do you keep going?

I know you must, you do.

But how?

All that I know is I’m breathing.
All I can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing now.

The repetitive strains of the song flood my mind.

****

I can’ t sleep.

And I know that this is why.

I want to write more about it…

but this isn’t about me.

So I’ll pray.

And I’ll ask you to pray.

For love.

For peace.

For…the words that don’t come, can’t come.

*Thank you, Ingrid Michelson for this song.  It touches my heart in so many ways.

Blissdom 2010

I could tell you a lot about Blissdom.  I’m sure there will be hundreds of posts chronicling the sessions, the parties, the speakers, the food.  Well-written posts about friendships made and cultivated, the beautiful Opryland Hotel and Harry Connick, Jr will surely be out there, too.

And although those things were awesome and I learned so much and met so many, something bigger happened.

Somewhere inside me, in that quiet little place that I sometimes hesitate to share with even my closest friends,
I felt a movement, a revolution.

There were times this weekend when I laughed so hard I cried.
There were times when I was my normal, loud-mouth self.
There were times I stepped outside my comfort zone.

But often I found myself just being quiet.
Watching others.  Listening.
Listening to others and listening to that inner part of me that so frequently gets drowned out at home,
shushed and squashed by my to do list.

Blissdom was not a Christian conference.
Blissdom was not about religion or God.
Blissdom was not about growing in your faith
or becoming a better person.

But Blissdom was inspirational.
And Blissdom was educational.
And Blissdom changed me.

Over and over and over, whether in sessions or conversations or within my own mind,
the same three phrases kept re-surfacing:
Be authentic.
Be passionate.
Focus on what’s really important.

Not really novel concepts.  Not something I hadn’t heard a hundred times before.
But exactly what I needed to hear,
what I wanted to hear,
what I was ready to hear.

Several panelists talked about finding your voice, but I realized that in order to find my voice, I must first find me.
I’ve gotten lost in the shuffle.
I’ve gotten wrapped up in things that don’t matter.
I’ve let some influence me too much, and others not enough.

It’s time for a change.
Thanks, Blissdom.

Sometimes

Sometimes in order to succeed, you have to fail.

Sometimes in order to do accomplish something big, you have to accomplish something small first.

Sometimes accomplishing one big thing doesn’t matter, but accomplishing lots of little things do.

Sometimes you are torn between reality and desire, wrong and right, good and evil.

Sometimes…

Sometimes it’s hard.

Sometimes it’s hard to do what is right.

Especially when you’re not sure what right is.

Grace.  Compassion.  Love.  Equality.  Redemption.

Easy to say, hard to live.

But I’m trying.

Welcome Back!

You may have noticed(or not) that my blog was down for a few days while Mommy Geekology helped me get my geek on and redesign my blog.  (Really that means that she answered all eleventy-billion stupid questions I’ve asked recently, and she fixed things as I broke them while trying to play with CSS.  I really shouldn’t ever be allowed to play with CSS.)

And although I’m back up and running, I won’t around for a while because I’ll be packing for Blissdom!  And  trying to figure out if I can make some business cards since I waited too late to order them. (Oops!)  Any quick and fancy ideas?

ALSO…if you were subscribed to my blog in a feed reader, I think it may be a bit confused by the transition.  Could I kindly request you to delete the old one and sign up for the new one?  That’d be great.  I’d hate for you to miss these life-changing posts I’ve been writing lately.

I’m working on getting my blogroll back up, but I somehow managed to not save my list from the old blog.  There are so many blogs that I love to read and want you to know about!   Have one you want to share?  Leave a link in the comments and I’ll head over and check it out!

Right now…

No  time to grab the camera.

No time to write it down.

Just time enough to breathe it in and linger…

Sara Groves, This Peace
http://popup.lala.com/popup/504684671900119792

Every Single Night

Mama, are you ty-erd?

Yes, baby, I’m tired.

Are you going to bey-ad?

Yes, baby, I’m going to bed.

Mama, are you gonna go to sleep?

Yes, baby, I’m going to go to sleep.

Why?

Because I’m tired.

Am I your favorite free year old?

Yes.  You are my favorite three year old.

Mommy?

Yes?

You’re my favorite firty year old.

*smiles and giggles*
(both of us)

I love you.  Goodnight.

Goodnight, Mommy.

I’ll see you in my dreams.

I’ll come find you in the morning.

I can’t wait.

I love you, Lydia.

I love you, Mommy.

Goodnight, my love.

(This never gets old, and I hope I never forget it.)

This was written as part of the {W}rite of Passage Challenge.