Category: My Story

I feel like saying something nice.

I’m one day into this toxic fast, which I haven’t technically started.  I have splitting headache, but my spirit is open and today I feel happy.  That’s worth commenting on because honestly the last time I can say I felt happy was … I cannot remember.

Before I digress into that quagmire, I just want to write some nice stuff about my folks.  If you’ve followed along here on the blog for any amount of time you’ve just coughed your tea all over the computer or fallen off your chair.  But hey, miracles do happen (they actually do) not that I’m saying this is one.  But I just feel like trying to remember a few things. So, …

I love the way my dad had a gut busting laugh.  (What I wouldn’t give to hear it again.) When he was amused he just laughed from the belly.  There weren’t too many people who could make him do that.  My sister Holly and I could at times when we weren’t pissing him off. When Tom was on a roll, he sure did make dad laugh.  And then there were TV shows from time to time.

I loved that my dad was consistent about his spiritual disciplines.  Every morning for as long as I can remember, he got up early, made coffee and a fire, and read the Bible.  I mean the actual word of God, not books about it.  Every day.  No matter what. And he kept a prayer list and tracked answers.

Both my parents struggled with insecurity and so they worked hard to fight it.  They used make lists for the other person: What’s good about you.  Strengths.  It may sound hokey, but it really was kind of sweet and it seemed to help.  They would try to do it to me sometimes, and I resisted, but I have to admit it feels good to read a list of ‘affirmations’ if want to call it that which someone else thought of and told you.  Aren’t we all just a little hungry to know what others think of us? I feels damn good.

I love how my dad always said my mom was smarter than him.  It was true, but it was nice to hear him say it.

I love how my mom is a walking encyclopedia.  She does know a little about everything.  And a lot about the Bible, natural health, history, politics, gardening, human resources, …

I love how my mom did her recovery work and hasn’t looked back.  I’m not saying it’s easy for her.  But let me tell you as a fellow addict, it isn’t a small thing.

I absolutely love my mom’s green thumb.  I wish I had it.  I seem to mess up plants, but I go over to my mom’s house and her plants actually look happy.  It’s odd I know, but she has it.  If plants can be happy, they are at her house.

I love that my parents were never in debt (after early mistakes in the early 70s), paid cash for cars, and planned for retirement.  They were some of the most generous people I’ve ever known.  They’ve given away everything from an actual house to enough money that the IRS would audit them regularly.  I guess they couldn’t believe that people with a missionary income gave away so much.

I was just reflecting that I have relationships with people all over the world, many of whom I’ve been keeping up with most recently on Facebook.  Oh, FB is strange and I could write pages on whether it is real, but I have all those relationships because of my parents and the influence they had on me.

I am a multi-cultural friendly open generous person, because of my parents.

If by now you’re in shock, cause Melody just wrote almost ten things she likes about her parents and childhood, and something good about herself, take a deep breathe and smile.

Cause that’s what I’m doing.  Breathing and Smiling.  God is good.

[21 day detox] preparation & disclaimer

21 DAYS, oh boy!

I am embarking on an adventure to heal myself! And I could not be more excited!  The Martha’s Vineyard Detox is a cleansing detoxification program.

“We are all exposed to chemicals and substances in our daily environments: cigarette smoke, smokestack emissions pesticide runoff, carpet, paint and bleach fumes, artificial flavors, colors, and preservatives, antibiotics and hormones, dry-cleaning fluid residue, nail polish, hair color harm our body and compromise our health…Overtime, toxic elements accumulate in our cells, gunk up our organs, erode our quality of life, and cause many of the low-grade discomforts that are familiar: allergies, fatigue, heartburn, headaches and loss of energy.  Toxins make us more susceptible to serious chronic diseases like high blood pressure and diabetes.  In fact, these poisons foul up the delicate inner workings of our bodies so much that many of us gain unwanted weight.”

Upfront I will say my mom is a trained naturopath.  She has been a vocal proponent of natural remedies and the belief in the body’s ability to heal and keep itself healthy.  Generally I would agree that traditional Chinese medicine makes sense to me — which is based on the concept that the human body is a small universe with a set of sophisticated and interconnected systems, and that those systems usually work in balance to maintain the healthy function of the human body.

But my “universe” has been messed up for some time.

I’ve spent the last 20 years of my life hearing about ‘this or that’ theory or the latest diet or fast she was doing.  And since my mom had struggled with her own health, and weight, and has yo-yo’d, I pretty much dismissed it all cart blanch. I heard her testimony about healing herself of thyroid problems and lung disease and took it with some skepticism.  I would use the occasional L-lysine for boosting your immune system and tried a few other things, but mostly — unfortunately — I was patronizing and glib about most of her plans, though I never expressed it out loud (to her)  — I simply didn’t listen to her.  Like Charlie Brown’s parents, her health advice went in as “Wah, wah.”  Very sorry Mom!

It is a mystery to me why I was open to considering my health right now.  I believe spiritually and physically I was searching for some answers and for whatever reason the timing was right.

My sister was doing this particular detox last year and I saw the immediate health results — that really sold me.  Health issues that she has struggled with her entire adult life just “went away” via this detox.  (She has since backed this up with her medical doctor’s analysis.) And so I read the book over Christmas break and just finished it.  And the book is compelling!

Read my blog  “I have eaten my last waffle!” here for how it began for me.

My fast begins today (when my stuff arrives in the mail) but it was not something that you can go into without planning.  I have to admit upfront that this fast is going to be a challenge!  Thus far, I have ordered my supplements and green drinks.  I have had the first dreaded colonic. (Not as bad as you would think!)  I will have a Lymphatic Massage tomorrow.  My first reaction is expensive.  Already expensive!  Your average person would not probably afford $200 of vitamins, supplements, etc. and the $110 for colonic and ionic foot bath.  Only if you were already extremely ill would it make sense.  But we’ll see.  I’ll keep track of the expenses vs. what I get out of it.

As a writer I thought this book was badly organized.  So one of the things I want to do during this fast, is to break things down more clearly.  The science and personal reflections in the book are important to read, so if you’re interested in this detox you will still have to read the book. It is 21 Pounds in 21 Days. The Martha’s Vineyard Diet Detox by Roni DeLUZ founder of the Martha’s Vineyard Holistic Retreat.

Disclaimer: If you are at all squeamish about  how your bodily functions OR reading  about physical changes in mine, this [21 DAY FAST] segment of my blog may not be for you.  But I would say, give it a chance.  I may talk about colonics and other bodily changes, it is not because I’m strange but because I WANT THIS TO BE A REAL DIARY OF MY EXPERIENCE DURING THE 21 DAYS and we get squeamish about these things and ignore what our body is saying to us. And the point of a cleansing toxins out is to experience the changes within and I would like to be able to let others know of the benefits.  Because my prediction is that this will be life changing.

[OK, so you have been warned.]

As I finished up the book the Martha’s Vineyard Diet Detox and began to make my plans, one of the things I needed to do was think about my goals.

Why am I completing this detox?

I think my reasons have evolved.  As soon as I began to read the book I began to be more aware of my body.  The extreme discomfort in my clothing, certain aches and pains like frequent head-aches, strange pain in my right lower tummy area after eating, constant constipation, sore stiff knees,  and difficulty sleeping sometimes.  On top of that I quit smoking and drinking alcohol in the last year, so my lungs and my liver are toxic.  I struggle with depression and anxiety and have taken an antidepressant medication for about five years.  I stopped another medication this year.  I have chronic allergies and pop Benadryl like candy.  As well as Advil or something like it for headaches. I’m addicted to caffeine and joke about it as if it’s funny.

Well apparently most of these things are not or do not need to be a part of my life.  Huh!   I can detox my way out of most of them. And so can you.  NONE of these things are something one HAS to live with and endure.

Oh, and I forgot the most troubling reason: I have gained some weight all over, but especially around the middle, and I can not seem to rid myself of it!  I am not a dieter, so this has frustrated me like hell! A lot of it has to do with my sedentary lifestyle but I just have no energy for things.  No Zeal, no Zest for life!

Guess what, we do not have to live with these type of discomforts and we can heal our body of these things with a detox.

I am looking forward to and expect: more energy, less need to sleep, better mental clarity, memory and focus; fewer headaches and backache; less knee aches and joint pain; a reduction in cellulite; fewer colds and a stronger immune system.

Next time I will talk about exactly what the detox involves.

I will keep you posted as to how I am feeling.

When it comes to forgiveness, I’m lousy!

This is a very personal reflection.  I have written it to and about some specific people, but I believe there are lessons to be learned and so I share it here.

When it comes to forgiveness I have to admit, I’m lousy (here is something I wrote about the process of forgiving my father).  I guess one could say that I hold on to things.  I would say that I hold on to them until I’m ready to let go, always intending to let go at – some – point.  When it is safe?

When you have experienced an abusive home life, it is pure survival instinct to be suspicious.  That lack of being able to trust has hurt me in my life, I know, but it has also protected me from other kinds of pain.  Growing into  Christ’s forgiveness has meant that I have to learn to trust.

When I went to work for my father in 1991 I did it for his approval.  I’d never in my life felt his approval and I just wanted a context where he might ‘like’ me or what I did.  Innocently at first, I stepped into a situation where others accused us of nepotism.  So not only did I have the pressure to perform so that my scowling, disapproving perfectionist father would love me and more importantly approve of me, but I had to live up to his expressed expectations so that others would see that I was competent and deserved to be there.

I learned a lot in the first few years there.  He pushed me in ways that I needed.  I was shy and insecure and he expected me to make things happen!  I learned to express myself clearly, get on the phone and make it happen and eventually I began to see that I was pretty good.  He definitely gave me a confidence boost but I wasn’t prepared for him offering me a huge promotion to Urbana communications.

I’m  still not sure why he did that?  I had a communications degree but it was meaningless at least in my mind.  It was a “I don’t know what to study” degree.   When I started that job I was equal parts thrilled and terrified.  I had tons of ideas and I felt so passionate about my ideas that I wasn’t afraid of what others thought.  Those were good days in the beginning.  Days of huge learning and beginning to shape communications for Urbana the way I wanted.  Yes, I was very I centered.  But things were going fine until I ran up against Scott Wilson.  He told me at one of our first lunches that this was “family” and family looked out for each other.  I had been looking at an external ad agency to help bring some new ideas into the promotion and in no uncertain terms I was told if I did that, I was not “in the family” [insert lingering unspoken threat]

This was so outrageous to me that I remember going home and laughing with Tom because it sounded so mafia-like.  Turns out he wasn’t kidding and that began a power struggle that only escalated and continued up to the day I left InterVarsity.  I take that back, after I left on maternity leave with my third child, after what came to be my last Urbana, he began to ignore me.

Ten years later, I know that I never wanted to leave InterVarsity.  I loved my job.  I was tired and very pregnant and burned out.  I felt like I wasn’t totally supported when it came to my job and that I was being ignored structurally.  I felt unsure about a new Urbana director and tired, did I mention how tired I was?  I did Urbana 2000 seven months pregnant, wrote my report totally exhausted, had my son, did the maternity leave and then … I didn’t know how to return and it didn’t seem like it mattered to anyone whether I did or not.  No one was there to help me get a plan together for the future.  I fell between the cracks.

I never experienced resolution to the conflicts with Scott Wilson.  I never got support for some of the issues I had on my team.  I felt that I had somehow failed and yet, I can’t think of how really.  Three bursting conventions.  The goal had been achieved.  I guess my problem was that I always wanted more.  And ‘more’ wasn’t going to happen at InterVarsity with Scott around.

The funny thing is how different Scott and I are.  I express myself in writing, he’s verbal and extremely articulate.   I’m shy.  I am not a people person, I’m an ideas person.  I have learned over the last ten years that I am really okay with lots of solitude.  I hate meetings and process, though I see how important they can be. I love team and community, but I don’t know how to achieve it.  If someone could have helped us, I think Scott and I together could have been very effective with InterVarsity communications, but as it was the whole thing crushed me.

But I can see God’s big and loving hands on this whole thing, because I don’t know if I could have learned the things that I have about myself and about Him if I had stayed at IV.  Spiritually, I was dying there.  I equated all this pain I was experiencing with God’s care for me and it didn’t feel very good.  I was hurt, and angry, and ready to tell God to f-off!

My story changed at that point to one of personal redemption.  I was experiencing postpartum depression, I was coming off being a workaholic to being a full-time nursing mom of three in diapers.  My identity issues which had trailed after me all my life flared their ugly head and all of a sudden I felt irrelevant and like a total failure.  After thirteen beautiful learning years at IV, because of the lack of closure and lack of resolution to this conflict, I felt I had failed.

I should have been able to figure it out but I was incapable at the time.   I put some of that pain into my final report, but I guess no one that mattered read it because I never heard back from anyone at IV.  It was like I had fallen off the face of their planet.  What short memories organisations seem to have.

As I dealt with depression, which worsened I began to wrestle with alcohol.  I am not proud of those years certainly.  I was self-medicating and only later learned that it was genetic and my mom would soon get help for her own alcoholism.  I continued to wrestle with it off and on for years.  My father got sick, diagnosed with brain tumors.  He had surgery meanwhile I was trying to figure out if I should go on an antidepressant which was a heart wrenching decision.  At the time of the doctor’s appointment for that, I discovered I was pregnant.  I flew off to Colorado to be with my parents, knowing I was pregnant and clinically depressed.  I did go on the medication.  And for four days I considered an abortion, feeling I was an unfit mother. I don’t know where the thoughts of aborting the baby came from but I was in a major depression.   Six weeks later, the baby self aborted.  A miscarriage.

All the while we were dealing with my father’s illness, my mother’s her drinking became a danger to others including dad and herself.   In the end dad died, mother got help, and I was back with the problems I had before it all started.  Still depressed, confused, lonely and angry at everyone.

On and off over the years I have sought help for my drinking.  It was only in the last year that I knew I could stop.  I know my drinking would never have happened if I had a full-time job.  I hardly drank when I was working.  And I do believe looking back that the opportunity for ‘abuse’ came with too much time on my hands at first, boredom, the stress of little ones under foot, the genetic propensity, and the almost manic depression that I was getting help for at the same time.

I am grateful now that I had the last ten years to slow down enough to see myself – feel my feelings – stop achieving long enough to realize how badly I felt about myself.  When I was working I was a maniacal over-worker.  If I had a slow day I would get this crazy black cloud over me that I had to run from and so I just kept running.  Doing.  Achieving.  I stopped feeling.   I stopped believing in the purpose of Urbana.  I stopped experiencing God.   My faith was so disintegrated at that point that I remember feeling I had better leave before someone finds out what a hypocrite I was.

This is all to say that I know I had many failures while I was working at IV.  I allowed pettiness and bitterness to dominate me.  I overworked people.  I knew there were people on my team who were hurting and I didn’t know how to help them, so I didn’t.  I just worked, because like my father that is where I felt competence.  I was too proud to ask for help.  And the few times I did ask for help, I was so filled with bitterness and anger that it is no wonder no one could hear me, understand the issues and resolve anything.

To Scott Wilson, I ask that you forgive me for disparaging you in my heart and with others.  To Barney Ford, I ask that you forgive me for not keeping my heart healthy and free from bitterness.  I ask that you both forgive me for allowing anger to dominate and for being a hypocrite.  I stopped listening to God in those last years at IV and was probably more of destructive force then anything.  To all the people who served with me, like Barry Sherbeck, and many others I ask your forgiveness for being so bitter.  For wasting so much of your time with my dark heart issues.  For people who worked for me, like Paul, and Mark, and Grace, and Carol, please forgive me for pushing you so hard.  And for being a feeble boss.  Grace, I should never have hired you knowing I was not going to be the supervisor you needed.  Please forgive me.  I know you all needed things from me that I had no knowledge of how to provide.

As I said, I’m no good at forgiveness.  Or perhaps it just takes me a while.  I can only praise God that He gave me these years, that  as I fell on my face and looked up He was there with open arms.  I can rise up today truly able to seek forgiveness and to let go of all that pain and finally be free!

Be not judges of others, and you will not be judged: do not give punishment to others, and you will not get punishment yourselves: make others free, and you will be made free.  Luke 6:37

[21 day detox]


[…]

Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

I have eaten

my last waffle.

I am doing my homework in order to do a 21 day fast. The theory is that our bodies are full of toxins from poor eating, our unhealthy environment and general bad living.  So, in order to have our body working at maximum efficiency one needs to flush it of all those toxins.

Over the last year I have had:

  1. chronic headaches (two to three a week),
  2. ongoing knee pain,
  3. TMJ/jaw clenching with pain,
  4. gastrointestinal issues,
  5. a weight gain of fifteen pounds (at least),
  6. to take antihistamines for constant allergies,
  7. to take antidepressant medication because I suffer from depression and anxiety.

I have also:

  1. gone off an anti-anxiety/sleep mediation,
  2. quit drinking alcohol, and
  3. quit smoking.

Good things, but lots of toxins stored up I’m thinking.

I’ve been reading the book 21 Pounds in 21 Days by Roni DeLuz, RN, ND. My sister did this fast and saw incredible health benefits, several health issues completely resolved and she felt fantastic!

I thought I might record the journey. Follow along if you wish.

Today I have to get organized by ordering the supplies and supplements which thanks to my sister Tonya I can order fro http://www.iherbs.com for much less than the package deal at the Doctor’s website. Dust off the juicer my mom gave me and on Monday make an appointment for a Colonic. (Yes, it’s that serious.) And call Tonya to get her advice and tips. She’s also doing the fast, starting today, so she’ll be a few days ahead of me!

I will begin when I get my care package in the mail.  Stay tuned.

a crooked road to home (a poem)

a crooked road

by Melody Harrison Hanson
December 31, 2009

Mama, I never thought being an adult child would be so hard.

being an adult child, of an adult who – is – a – child.

Reader. If you’re confused,
welcome.  It is a crooked road, full of twists I cannot define.  I cannot see to the other side.
I cannot look back, because I would slip on the path of unshed tears.

Mama, I get nothing from you.  Nothing for weeks. Before that, nothing

for as long as I can remember.

And I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m trying to figure out what you want?  Do you want anything

[ from me?]

You never reach out.  You never check in.

Should I just assume you’re fine. You don’t want or need anything from me?

Reader. If you’re confused,
welcome.  It is a crooked road, full of twists I cannot define.  I cannot see to the other side.
I cannot look back, because I would slip on the path of unshed tears.

Mama, you can act like I’m not here.

Invisible.

Someone else’s child.

And [I think] I could live with that

if you didn’t act like you DON’T act

like that.  If you didn’t pretend

you are you.

If you didn’t pretent

You are the Mother.

Reader. If you’re confused,
welcome.  It is a crooked road, full of twists I cannot define.  I cannot see to the other side.
I cannot look back, because I would slip on the path of unshed tears.

And why, I think ,can I not be the adult?

Why can’t I make the calls, do the diligent thing? Why,

because I am somehow a little girl

waiting and hoping, for mama to Come Home.

I have a lot of poems about my feelings about parents… You can read them by going here:  https://logicandimagination.wordpress.com/tag/my-poetry/

Mel

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Resolutions for 2010

My New Years Resolutions …

I will Learn. See. Respond. Be …

  1. I will give more of my time, voice, and energy to the disadvantaged, oppressed, and forgotten in my community. (Immigrants, LGBT, homeless, unwed mothers, the illiterate.)  To put myself in situations where I am the ethnic minority.  If given opportunity, I will tell their stories through word and image.
  2. I will grow more of our own food.  I will learn to can.  I will shop locally, especially community based privately owned businesses.
  3. I will save more, spend less. I will live on a budget. I will continue to not buy clothes for myself for a year, until October, 2010.   I will use the library.
  4. I will help us be a connected family. I will turn off electronics while the kids are awake. I will turn off electronics 4-8pm. And do more together. (e.g. Go to ballgames, the symphony & opera,  plays (The Lion King), go camping, …)  We will call cousins and other family members.
  5. I will continue to work at staying depression free. I will work the 12 steps.  I will exercise every day, if only 20 minutes.  I will taper off Effexor.
  6. I will write for an hour every day of the work week.  About … What I am thankful for.  What I want to know.  What I think.  Who I need to hear from.
  7. I will read with intentionality. (On race, gender & the church, faith, poverty, global issues …)
  8. I will play my piano and find an avenue to sing.
  9. I will work on a photography project with the goal of a gallery showing and work on a website for online sales & exhibition.
  10. I will take Tom to Big Ben before he’s 50.

A year of  images : the people, places and things. I shot this year. (This will take you to a SET of my photography on the www. flickr.com.  Click on SLIDE SHOW in the upper right hand corner when you get there.)

Be well, friends.  Be well.  And if you feel like it, drop me a word about what you’d like to accomplish in 2010.

For Everything there is a Season

It is George Bernard Shaw that said what is the true joy in life,

“the being used for a purpose

recognized by yourself as a mighty one;

the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap;

the being a force of nature

instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances

complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.”

I am starting to feel a such a sense of self-loathing because I need more to do with myself.   Do I have an utterly solipsistic life?  Not to be overly dramatic, but the care and well-being of my children is simply not enough.  I have wrestled with the demon and shame of that for nine years, since I quit working  at InterVarsity and began to take care of my kids full-time.  Even at the beginning, when I was trying to decide I never believed it would be enough for me.  And tho there have been wonderful moments, it has not been satisfying, not really.  How do you live with the knowledge that you should not have made the decision that you did?  I could hardly admit that after walking away from a really amazing job.  But my situation at work had grown intolerable and seemed impossible to fix.  So after nearly a year of soul-searching  — I quit .  I chose to become an at-home mom. Even while I was changing diapers and wiping noses, singing songs and cuddling, wiping away tears and reading stories — all thoroughly wonderful things, mind you — I struggled.  Though I know many, many women (and some men) do find it to be full of purpose, I was confused, very lonely, sad and missing my work.

Of course I questioned myself!  For all those years, thirteen at InterVarsity and nine years of being at home, I was searching internally for a sense of  my purpose.   At IV I was constantly pushing people and myself to try new things more out of a sense of my need for change and overworking as well.  I was frantic and dissatisfied most of the time.  So I don’t want to give the impression that WORK was a panacea or mecca.  I have searched for ultimate purpose my whole life and I still am looking.

On one level, have a father who was so dynamic and incredible made me expect more — of myself, of my work, of my life.

I think this blog was in part trying to sort that out.  Talk about things that are important to me.  Wrestle with ideas, doubt, passions and self-absorption, say something important or  at least interesting.  It was a venue for my poetry and a way to get feedback on it.

I once was a human dynamo, even while learning the hard way how to treat others with the dignity and with the care they deserved.  I had failures which I feel deep sorrow.  I could name the people whose lives I hurt as a leader or manager and I have such regret. But at the time I was so full of my accomplishments that it didn’t slow me down.  While I was making mistakes I was also accomplishing a lot (some of it good, a few things I consider great) and people were affirming and promoting me.  As I have mentioned at other times, I had altercations with another leader and that conflict became too much for me .  It wasn’t worth it after a while.  I had reached a place of resistance and no-where to go in the organization without running into this person.  I guess you could say they ‘won’ if it was a competition (which it felt like) and I lost by walking away.

When I left work to be at home  full-time, I was at first almost giddy with how simple it was.  Uncomplicated.  The sameness of the days was a relief after all that unpredictable infighting and conflict!  And then it wasn’t so great.  More like Ground Hod Day, if you have seen the movie.  The same day over and over, the alarm ringing and waking to realize it is THAT DAY again and again and again.

“Don’t waste life in doubts and fears; spend yourself on the work before you, well assured that the right performance of this hour’s duties will be the best preparation for the hours and ages that will follow it.”  — Ralph Waldo Emerson

What being at home did, with one day indistinguishable from the next, was to strip it all away — shattering the persona I had created and forcing me to look hard at my internal grid work.  I had to face and try to understand my family of origin.  While caring for my kids,  the successful person that I had been was unimportant, even irrelevant.  And I had no choice but to face myself — look in the mirror and frankly I wasn’t very happy with what I saw.

Through it, I was overcome by a deep, deep depression.  It hit most powerfully over two months and because I didn’t know what was happening to me I thought I was going mad.  Crazy.  Cuckoo.  Insane.  And I was utterly helpless to help myself.  I couldn’t make decisions.  I couldn’t sleep.  I couldn’t DO anything.  I had no energy, my mind was sludge, my heart felt like it might stop.

I remember talking to my dad on the phone, sitting on my backporch in the beautiful warn summer sunshine, saying “Dad, I just want to be happy.”  That was June.  He mailed me a plaque that said “You are the one Jesus loves” and  at the time my skin crawled at the thought!  I had absolutely lost any idea of God’s grace in my life or belief in His  individual love for me.  I was in the pit of despair and I did not believe it.  If I were the only one that existed, I would be loved by Jesus.   Little did I know this was to become a theme over the next years as I began to fight with God over his approval and affirmation.

In October my parents came to visit and I had manage to get myself functional.  My dad acted wierd and kind of mean, but he has always been slightly mean so I thought nothing of it.  Then in November he was diagnosed with brain tumors and we discovered his tumors had made him behave oddly for some time.

By May of the next year he was dead, but he was “gone” long before that.  After surgery, chemo and radiation he was gone.  He never said my name after his December surgery but he did call me Linda, once.  My mother went into treatment that April and was sober to see my dad die.  We’re all grateful for that.  Her alcoholism, his illness and death, my depression, my own alcoholism which I couldn’t accept, continuing to care for three young children…  You can imagine it was an ugly few years.  I am most grateful for Tom hanging in there with me and even more than just hanging, he helped fight for me and got me back into a place of genuine health.

Through those years, I struggled to do the hard work of therapy and if anyone has never done therapy you really have no idea how much work it is.  Weekly and sometimes twice a week at first, which turned into years of work.  I won’t go into all the detail here (too much was happening) but I have had episodes off and on with the depression for these many years.  With medication, several doctor’s care, a hospitalization after a suicide attempt, the care and long-suffering of Tom, much prayer and internal work which became eternal work,

I faced that I had become an alcoholic,

I faced that I needed to learn to love myself,

I faced that all of this around me (stuff & things) mattered not a whit,

I faced my loneliness,

I faced my insecurities developed from a lifetime of feeling my parents didn’t approve,

I faced a pathological need to be perfect,

I faced that I start and quit many things – I’m good at starting things and have more trouble with maintaining them;

I faced that I was tired of being at home, …

_______

Jeez, that makes me one crazy messed up woman that no-one will want to hire.  yes, that’s what the voices in my head began to say.

For everything there is a season,

And a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to throw away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate,

A time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I have carried many stones.  Lost so much.  Wept an ocean inside.  Seen death and mourning.

I am ready to dance, to seek and listen.  I am eager to know what it is that I am here to do.  My advent lament was to cry out for God to speak.

James Thurber said:

All men should strive to learn before they die, what they are running from, and to, and why.

Stay tuned as I learn to dance, seek and listen!

A year without new Clothes

I have always been the sort of person that appreciates aesthetics which I think are an outward expression of a person’s creativity.

I wrote here about how I decided to buy no clothes for myself for a year.  Confronted by our consumer culture and my own guilty part in it, as well as trying to raise my daughter and sons with the values I deeply believe in, I was surprise by how much I wanted to do this and was also scared that I was too weak to carry out this commitment.  A part of me also wondered how I might change if I weren’t so conscious of myself and weren’t “consuming” all the time.   In just a few months I am aware of how much we HAVE.

God has worked on my relationship to money for years, especially when I quit working (for money) nine years ago.

My relationship with money is somewhat dysfunctional. Being a missionary kid, I grew up with hand-me-downs (from my sister, who got them from the missionary barrel.  Yes, there is such a thing.  A place where missionaries go to get clothing others have discarded.  Like the Goodwill, but free.)  So as a teen I became laser sharp in my awareness of the latest styles which I would never have.  It was an unhealthy habit but I spent lots of internal energy on my lack. Although my parents were good and generous people, and we never really lacked anything important, I thought we did.  I always had what I needed, but not what I wanted.

So as an adult God has been pruning away at my fixation on external.  The thing in me when I am down on campus that notices subtle changes in college style trends.   Or what’s happening in magazines.  Or what the old money people wear and have.  I see these things and I want their life.  I pay attention.  And I really loath it, but it’s been a long road of coming to believe that it really matters not a whit in who I am.  Not really.  A Land Rover versus a Honda.  A Coach bag vs. TJMaxx.  Cashmere vs. a blend.  Anthropolie vs.IKEA.  My mind is always running on these lines and I know it is superficial and ugly.  I am loved without all that, … aren’t I …

But the missionary kid in hand-me-downs just isn’t quite sure she believes.

My thoughts are very often superficial.  I’ve had the moments in the last two months of freaking out as I really, really want something and then I breathe and step back and realize there is very little that I actually need.  As I walk away from a pair of boots, I realize that what I have is enough.  And I am so blessed and it is sufficient.   And besides in my current life of slogging after children, and trooping around town to carry out various tasks, my feet simply need comfort and warmth, not style!

After the first few days of living with this pledge it was a matter of changing my mindset of always being on the prowl for the “find” — the deal I can’t live without —  and I found I actually began to have much more time, energy and confidence for new ideas and what I might do with my time and resources.  I had a lot of ideas.  And a flurry of writing.  And my mind and heart were full of potential.

I have much more empathy.  I spent a recent snow day worrying over and over again about the school kids who I know eat breakfast and lunch at school — would they be hungry today?  Would their parent/s have to miss work or would those kids spend the day unsupervised, while I and my children enjoyed snow angels, hot chocolate and baking cookies.

Our abundance overwhelms me and I hope I am more present  in our bounty.

So although I am still aware of what others are wearing, conscious of magazines and television’s pressures, this adventure of living without new clothes is helping me learn a little better who I am.  I have more time to BE.  And to hangout and do things with my kids, and that can’t be purchased!

It really is priceless.

clever by emma

I know I’m a proud mama, but this poem is amazing.

clever

by emma, 12 years old

I am witty and clever.
I wonder why people fight.
I hear everything.
I see people.
I want fairness.
I am witty and clever.

I pretend I can fly.
I feel weightless.
I touch the cold metal.
I worry about change.
I cry like crazy.
I am witty and clever.

I understand pain.
I say ‘laughing is good.’
I dream about life.
I try so hard.
I am witty and clever.

I hope you keep your nose clean in 2010!

When I told him that I was going to use the ‘nose pickin’ shot for our Christmas photo, he protested loudly. So I asked, “Then why did you stick your fingers up your nose?” And he looked at me like why – would – I- not?  Oh, the innocence of being eight.

remembering being eight

When I was eight my parents decided to move. We were pulled out of school in tropical Papua New Guinea where we had grown up.  We were put up a grade level, when we arrived in southern California.

My few memories of that time were not understanding what was going on at school, having a make fun of me, having an Aussie accent, missing my life long friend Carol, all of a sudden noticing clothes.  Bell bottoms were in and my father had white leather shoes and belt, which he wore with brown bell bottoms and a dark shirt Oh yeah, he was stylin’!

We took vacations to woods of northern California to visit my aunt Beth and uncle Loren (my father’s sister) and and got to sleep in a tent. Picking blackberries and then eating the best blackberry cobbler in the world made by my aunt, warm from the oven! We also visited cousins over Christmas, also in northern California, who were older  by a few years, and I thought were cool! They listened to “Rock Music” which my father thought was “of the Devil” — which made them even more cool.

But I also remember this was when I started not doing homework. Thinking I wasn’t smart. Hiding in my room. Trying to be invisible. Reading thousands of books, while I was hiding in my room, being invisible and not doing homework.  (This happened later in Texas as well.)

traditions past and present

Now I have my own family and I’m trying to figure out what traditions from our childhood are important to me. We had things imposed up on us when we were children. It was never “shall we read a Christmas story together?” but rather “Come in here and listen to Dad read a story. Now!” I mean what kid doesn’t want a story read to them? Unless they are never given the option to say no. Sorry, I digress.

Traditions: Reading Christmas stories, putting together a Christmas puzzle, cutting down our tree and putting it up over Thanksgiving weekend, baking Christmas cookies and sharing them with friends and neighbors, making fudge for friends & Tom’s colleagues, going to church on Christmas eve, … what are your favorites? I told you I’m working on developing mine.

dwelling on the past

I’ve have felt convicted of the fact that I dwell so much on the past. It’s true that I do at times seem stuck and unable to let go of my past. Unable to resolve things in the past and unable to live in the now. Guilty as charged.  My excuse to myself is that I have a memoir in there and I need to get it written and then let it go.  We’ll see.

friendship

Of late, I’ve also been convicted of the fact that I am not a very good friend. I am so afraid of rejection and I am lazy. My feelings parallel the feelings of my kids at times and I am saddened because I am 43. I should be at a better place. If it’s any consolation, our matriarch is even more isolated than I am.

buy nothing for myself

You may have been wondering how the ‘buy nothing for myself for 365 days” project is going? I made that pledge to myself on October 7th and thus far I have stuck to it. I can’t tell you how many times I have this impulse to go shop for myself because I was feeling down. It’s like crack! But the high doesn’t last.

So no, I have not bought:

  • a new coat, though mine feel out of date (as in not bought this year.)
  • new boots, even though boots are ‘it’ this year, long leather boots. And mine are almost ten years old and my brown pair are suede.  Who buys suede boots in Wisconsin, though beautiful they just might be the most impractical thing I have ever purchased.  You can’t wear them 90% of the year because of a) snow or b) it’s too warm.  …But no I haven’t bought either brown or black.
  • I didn’t buy a Christmas outfit which ended up being no big deal.  I mean what is that anyway.  I don’t really like any of the red in my closet.  “I’m not a red person” as my kiddos would say, though I’ve been told I look good in it.  My son says he’s not a “collar person.” Sigh, we still have some work to do.
  • I haven’t purchased pants even though mine are all tight (e.g. I am fat) and I’m just going to have to lose the weight.
  • Not bought new tights even though some oldies have holes.  (Sorry) Wear them with pants.
  • And I have not bought the cute, cute cute hats at the craft shows I’ve attended, and pins, and … stop.

I go to my closet daily (like everyone does) and I try to come up with something interesting and I have to say that it has been fun. I appreciate what I have much, much, much more.  I have been more creative and I often find myself thinking, “What- were- you- thinking?” when you bought that!?  Because I don’t try anything on so I have lots of things that fit only so so. What a stupid thing.

When I do shop for myself again, in 2010, October, I will always try it on, I will care about quality over price, perhaps spend a little more on things that I know I will wear a lot. The quantity of my shopping in the past has forced me to buy lower quality and as I look at what I have I am seeing it differently all of a sudden. Truly seeing my stuff is priceless.

And finally, (I hope you will) watch this astoundingly simple and profoundly good video on consumerism.

http://qideas.org/video/consumerism.aspx

I have to admit that it is difficult to not get caught up in the idea that Christmas is about presents.  I love giving them!  But, it’s all a part of a giant addiction too and I for one want to quit.

As for my other ones, I am happy to say that I am alcohol free 17 mos, and nicotine free 9 months!  Yay me.  I am proud of myself.  Though it hasn’t been all me – having a family keeps me accountable.  And I do believe that God is giving me extra strength to endure times when it may be difficult.

This is not some official report on the year, just had a number of things bubbling around in my brain.

P.S.  I did NOT use this photo for our Christmas photograph.  :-)

get.me.off.this.ride

hey!  is anyone listening?  yeah you. God!

i.wanna. get. off. this. ride. you. got. me. on.

i am not the One you think I am.

i. am. not. good.

i. am. no. good.  i am no different from him.

oh i may not let the rage outside. but the stream of anger is W.A.I.L.I.N.G.

inside. polluting. my. mind. like. a. pinball. arcade. pow. pow. pa pow.

get. me. outta. here. i. say. get me away from your Children.

away from the hunger.fear.grief.self-hatred.shame.need.regret.poverty.addiction.cold.

your people are so c o l d.  cause old.man.winter’s blowin’ in.

give back, He whispers. you are forgiven.

the warm Breath of His Spirit Swirls Around.

Give back. You can.

And then I begin to hear it, the rhythm.  The pulse inside me and out. A quiet far away beat. Tu – tu – TU.  It’s repeated in my heart.  My stomach.  My soul.  My head.  It tickles my ear. It moves in my feet.   give.you.can.give.

Give. You. Can.  Cause you are forgiven.  I am hope.

I say Now that’s enough reason. Yeah, I hear you now, Tu – tu – TU whispered to me.  Yes, I am stepping back in.

They refused to obey. And they were not mindful of Your wonders that you did among them. But they hardened their necks, and in their rebellion they appointed a leader to return to their bondage.  But You are God, ready to pardon, gracious and merciful, slow to anger, abundant in kindness, and did not forsake them. 
[Neh. 9:17 (NKJV)]

Advent Lament: My Endless and Voluminous Need

Some have said Advent is an opportunity to walk into the dark night of the soul, as Nouwen called it. This works for me.  As I sat in church yesterday I felt unsettled and angry.  Stirred by the challenges of my life I felt a heightened awareness of my need — my endless and voluminous need.

For some weeks I have had a growing sense of discomfort.  This happens to me from time to time, though years can pass in between.  It is a strange unwelcome melancholy that affects me emotionally, spiritually, and physically.  In can bring a new level of understanding, a softening, an unfolding of my heart.

But in what I have come to know as predictable, my inner self resists.  I find myself becoming angry, distrusting, and irritated.  I do not know why I respond this way, only that it has come enough times in my life that I recognize it.  It may take me a while, days or weeks to finally see it for what it is, but then as I face it, the unsettling of my soul, I understand why nothing seems right, no one pleases me, and everything is causing a level of increasing frustration.

Especially expectations of Christmas, stated and unspoken.  I am overly aware of money or lack of it, kitsch or classy decorations, who is spending or not, and how special I can make things for my children and family.  This focus on material becomes enormous, crowding out what’s going on inside me.

My every sense is magnified. My heart tells me it is impossible to resolve all the conflict in my heart.

For the first time in a while I responded by writing a lament to God.  Restricted by the scenario at church of time and space, everyone jotting down on a small piece of paper their gratitude, praise or a lament, I resisted at first.  Then, I quickly wrote from my heart:

Tell me what you want me to do.  Speak.

Hearing God speak is one of my greatest places of doubt as a believer.  Oh, God does speak to me and when he does I am always totally blown away by its clarity.  But still I live mostly in the in between riddled with unfaithful doubt.

As a voracious reader, the world of blogging has opened up to me an instantaneous flood of information and I’ve gorged on it of late.  As is my nature, I tend to go to the extremes.  I have found hundreds of insightful people and blogs.  I wish I could read them all daily but my world around me would fall to pieces in disarray if I did.

Early this morning I read a summary of a presentation by the Rev. Dr. Christopher Beeley, professor at Yale Divinity School.  It put into words this cycling of despair, response, growth in a way I have not been able to understand or summarize myself. Don’t you love it when that happens?  Beeley presented:

“a three-step process of faith formation offered by John Newton and developed from a reflection of Newton’s on the parable of the sower. The first step is “Desire.” A person might feel “elation” and “joy” or “relief.” The sense of desire propels one into church with a sudden surge of awareness of God’s grace and love. This first phase is like the Hebrews freed from Egypt, it brings with it a sense of elation. While the sense of desire and God’s love persist they also change with time leading to the second phase.”

“The second phase is “Conflict.” This is the “dark night of the soul” phase where one wrestles with God, with faith,and often faces challenges that were not experienced in the first phase of Desire. If Desire is marked by elation like that of the Hebrew freed from slavery, this phase is marked by a sense of being lost, the Hebrews wandering in the desert for 40 years. This is a time of growing more dependent on God and deepening our trust as we travel through one challenge after another.”

“The second phase leads to the third phase. Newton is careful to spell out that one is not necessarily a better believer or person in one phase or the other, rather one’s sense of dependence on God increases through each phase. To me this phase sounds a bit like what the Buddhists call “Detachment.” This phase is marked by a shift in emotions where one becomes less emotionally engaged in the challenges and more able to view them with some distance, having put one’s trust in God.”

“…These phases, A, B, and C were not linear but perhaps a spiral that repeats over and over through life.” (emphasis mine).  Grace in the Blade by John Newton, three phases beginning on page 171.

As I sit fully within the Conflict stage, naming it helped me immensely.  I can say that my spiritual path has wound around and around in that spiral my entire life.  It wasn’t until I read these thoughts of Newton that I understood what was happening.

Much of my spiritual journey has involved doubt, restlessness and pain.  As I listen to those believer’s whose ‘faith’ seems to be pure saccharine goodness, I’ve felt constantly in revolt!  That has not been my experience!

My spiritual experiences have been marked by questions and confusion as I wrestle with the strange truth of this radical person Jesus and the rest of scripture and reconcile them with real life; Christians whose lives are tinged with hypocrisy, the weakness of my own dark heart, and a life riddled with iniquity.

As I learn to cry out as I did yesterday, I am certain that He will respond.  Advent for me will be a time of listening, and so I wait.  I wait for him to speak and tell me what to do.  I wait for Him to speak.