Posture

So apparently I have a tendency to go weeks, nay, months without updating this blog. I'm sorry. That must be terribly frustrating to those of you that like to have a semi-regular glimpse into our lives. What is even more frustrating is that sometimes I go through seasons when I like to update daily, and other seasons, there is only silence...

I am realizing that is how my brain works, too. There are times when everything is cheery and the details of my days are tangible. It takes no effort to record daily happenings and funny little quips. But then inevitably, I dip into waters that are deeper, more complex, and my mind goes black for some time as I seek to process what I am thinking, what I hear God saying to me, and where I am being led. And then somehow I get out of the habit of communicating daily events and don't know how to enter back in.

So let's just start, awkwardly. Shall we?

For some time now I have felt gentle nudges to simplify, simplify, simplify. I don't think it's an uncommon message. We live in this culture that is so absolutely oppressive. Stuff EVERYWHERE. Things to do. Places to be. MONEY TO SPEND. It's so burdensome, isn't it? We watch TV shows about hoarders, feel guilt, and purge, frantically. We spend hard-earned dollars on storage solutions, organizational books, and systems. We neglect our kids to read websites and blogs about ways other people are doing "it" (whatever "it" is: organizing, parenting, creating, living), and bite our nails with anxiety that we don't know where to start. It appears that everyone else has it all together and we are the only ones that are lost.

Is anyone else feeling this? Is it only me? Maybe I should have said "I" instead of "we"...

Okay, then. Here is my confession. I did those things, I did. I spent hours trying to figure out better systems to do my daily tasks. I pushed my own children aside while sitting in front of the computer trying to figure out how to be a better parent. And then it struck me how absolutely silly it all was!

Simplify. Simplify. Simplify. But how, Lord? What does that mean? How do I know what it looks like? Where do I begin?

For one, we have determined after nearly 10 years of marriage that, for us, it doesn't mean birth control. The concept that a "smaller family equals a better life" has become a lie to me, because I know my own greediness and how quickly it would take over. Money for vacations? Done. Money for sports lessons? We're there. Money for nicer cars and lots more stuff? Yes, yes, and yes...

But an ever-growing family that ties me to home feels calmer and more secure. I know it doesn't make sense. Here is the best example I can give:

When Cole was a toddler, he was manic. He had problems processing sugars (that we hadn't discovered yet) and in addition to his food issues, he was a typical active little boy. He ran non-stop, always in a straight line, always away from me. Never looked back. I was exhausted for years, parenting just that child, but what I found as he grew is that he exhausted himself, too. He didn't always like being manic and active. Before he could even speak, he developed his own little sign for "go car" and when it all got to be too much for him, he would ask me to take him for a drive. I was always so amazed at how much calmer he would become the instant he was strapped into his 5-point harness. This look of pure relief would come over his face as if he knew it was going to be better now, for a time, because he didn't have to run and be crazy and control his body. He could just rest within the restriction. Now, looking back, I realize that I feel the same way. This world has too many things that lure me in and distract me. The (few) times that I have had plenty, I find myself immediately swayed by options. I'm too weak against them, and it's too easy to whip out my check card. There are too many bright lights and colors. It feels manic. I find my heart whispering, "five-point harness, Lord"...

The main thing that I feel God telling me these days is to adopt a posture of humility; now I am in the throes of trying to figure out what that looks like. I know it will be a process. But I can tell you that living a life with just enough manna for today feels peaceful and safe. Listening to my children and petitioning God for answers when I am up against a wall is calmer than doping out in front of the computer, looking for solutions in an endless sea of information. I don't think I want to give up this blog, and actually there are several things currently that I'd like to share with you...but I have to warn you that I might disappear from time to time when all this technology gets too much for me.

I guess those are all the things I have floating around in my head tonight. If anyone is still out there, come on back soon and we'll head for lighter topics for a while...

Alignment

I have recently begun seeing a chiropractor for the first time. Not because of any injury or accident; just because five big boys and one miscarriage in 8 years does a number on the body. After all this time, I still remember that sudden, jarring, change-your-life-in-an-instant moment during Cole's delivery when I felt my bones shift and I knew things would never be the same. Add a few more babies to that--a few of them close to ten pounds--and, well, it would serve to reason that my structure is a bit out of whack.

I'm going to go off-topic for a minute, but bear with me and I'll come back around. About a year ago, I read Debi Pearl's article "A Whole Boy" and I have not been able to get it out of my head(see the article here). In it, Pearl describes a painful encounter with the hurting mother of an out-of-control eight year old boy. There are problems on top of problems. The boy is spiraling downward. The mother is begging for The Answer, and Pearl is backed into a corner. What advice should she give? Organic food? Structure and discipline? Homeschool? Repentance?

Oh, there are so many moments when I am the mother in this story! My heart feels dischord in my home and I am at a complete loss for what to do. I am desperate, angry, biting, silent. I see smart-mouth boys that act disrespectful and lazy. I hear impatience in my raised voice, oozing sarcasm, and bitterness at perceived injustice. I feel the weight of piles of junk and extra pounds that I refuse to let go of. The anger and frustration wells up that things are not different. And I think, what is the answer?

I have run full-bore down the rabbit-trails of answers. A Montessori Homeschool Model. A Kosher Diet. Monitored Sugars. Carefully-Scheduled Calendars. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...

But I am a Whole Mother. These are Whole Boys. And Jesus has come that we may have (a whole) life, and that we may have it more abundantly (john 10:10)!

Clean. He needs to be made clean. He needs a clean body, free of poisons, sugars, and dyes. He needs a clean home, free of anger, Hollywood, and deceit. He needs a clean day, free to roam the countryside until his body is relaxed and tired. He needs a soul cleansing that can only be found in Jesus and His shed blood. He needs a clean daddy whose heart wants only to bring healing for his son. He needs a clean mother, whose heart is turned to honoring and reverencing her husband. He needs a clean world, both physically and spiritually.

....How do I tell his mother? Where does she start? ...It must start with her, for she is the one seeking a solution. This mother can't clean up the world. She can't dictate to Daddy; that would create further strife. But she can decide to honor and reverence her husband, thus bringing to her son at least one area of peace and security. She can go to the library and study the effects of foods, dyes and sugar, then take that information and act on it. She can take him to a place where he can run for hours, instead of forcing him to labor over a workbook that will never make a difference now or in eternity. She can pray, asking God for a miracle both in herself and her son. She can laugh and sing the joy of the Lord right into his presence. Everyday, he needs her smile. If she will do these things, it will be a beginning. Like a young tree bent in the wrong direction, she can begin to straighten that which is crooked (Debi Pearl, "A Whole Boy").

Isn't that the most beautiful list? It makes me take a long breath somewhere deep in my soul. This is what I am looking for. It reminds me of another list I love, one about a beauty who seeks wool and flax, and willingly works with her hands; who rises while it is yet night, and provides food for her household; who considers a field and buys it; who girds herself with strength, and strengthens her arms; who extends her hand to the poor, who reaches out her hands to the needy; who clothes her household with scarlet, who makes tapestry for herself; who watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness; who opens her mouth with wisdom, and on whose tongue is the law of kindness (from proverbs 31:13-27).

Slowly, I am pursuing Wholeness, for myself and for my family. I have a little grab-bag of tools that I use. I have spent four years researching the effects of different foods and have barely scratched the surface....but I see change in my sons, myself, and my husband. I am working towards allowing my boys to have independence in the things that are not too large for them to handle (a Montessori method), and in the understanding that those boundaries are often much farther out than my controlling spirit perceives them to be. I read the Flylady emails to tackle my superfluous 'stuff', and to kick the negative thoughts in my head.

And I go to the chiropractor now, to take care of me. The aches and pains that began with my first pregnancy have slowly worsened over the years, as is to be expected....but they increased exponentially after Sean was born (face-up) two years ago. I don't know if it was his position during delivery per se, or if a fourth pregnancy was just this body's final straw, but things have not been great for a while. Justin has been wanting me to do something about it for a long time, but I just wasn't ready.

Then a friend told me about a clinic nearly an hour away, where a family of doctors would work together through gentle biofeedback techniques to help me begin to heal, and I was sold before I even met with them. I think they were who I was waiting for all this time. By the time I finally went for my first adjustment, the bones in my feet felt at times as though they were broken, I had shooting pain down my right leg, I couldn't sleep, I had no nerve reflexes in my left arm and couldn't turn my head to check my blind spots, and I had to manually adjust my hips at times just to get out of bed in the morning. I was in pain all the time, but for so long, I had been reluctant to get better. The thing about pregnancy is that it pretty much forces you to come to terms with being uncomfortable. There is no other option. And I've been in and out of this pattern for so many years, I forgot what it was to feel healthy. I had actually lost the desire to have things be any other way.

At my first adjustment, I was asked to write down up to three sites where I was experiencing symptoms. I had to consider the page carefully before deciding what to write--I had pain radiating everywhere; how could I pinpoint a location? My subsequent appointments followed suit. And then suddenly, when I was in the clinic this week, I realized suddenly as I was filling out the form that there was only one place I could legitimately say was hurting. One place. After only a handful of short adjustments. The difference still astounds me.

There is still a lot of work to be done, and I'll be living at the chiropractors' for a while. But I've been so absolutely blessed by this experience and by the parallel it is playing to the rest of my life. See, that overall pain, that radiating discomfort, it's not there anymore. There is life returning. And I see it in my home, too---there is life, there is peace in so many areas. There are things that are working as they should. The time and energy spent in making corrections are paying off. And you know what? The closer things get to good, the easier it is to see what is out of alignment, what isn't working. When we are all getting enough rest, and eating clean food, and encouraging one another, and working together, and one member of our little clan suddenly has a tantrum, it's blazingly clear who has the issue that needs to be dealt with in that situation (and yes, sometimes it is the parent!). When the pain is everywhere, and everyone is losing it simultaneously, it's pretty difficult to pinpoint where the adjustment needs to happen.

So it's a new year, and time for resolutions I guess, but I am content to just plod along my little path in pursuit of alignment in all areas of my life. I know that this life is fleeting, and that I am not meant to love the world, but I know also that I can experience God here, and right now, that is all that my soul is longing for.

[august]

[we are in the last weeks now...in the days that feel sometimes like they are playing out under water, where the voices and movements all come in slow motion and muted tones. the babe is still turning and kicking. i think that my belly can not possibly grow another centimeter...and still it does, consistently, ever allowing for the constant growth. my bones feel like they are no longer connected. i keep up with my chores throughout the day, but once the sun goes down, i cannot walk without hobbling, bent at the waist, trying to avoid putting any pressure on my right leg. my feet feel tight in my shoes. i am not wishing the hurt away; it is testimony to what the body and spirit can bear.

he is here, and i must depend on him more and more. he comes up behind me as i cook at the stove and puts his arms around my belly, holding it up against gravity for just a few moments, and there is instant relief from the pain--what one cannot manage is not too much for two. he is carrying all of us now, having to intuit where the gaps lie and fill them, smooth them over... and yet it is i--the one who has no strength left--who must rise up on that fated day and somehow find the effort to give life, and breath, and voice to that searing fire...]

"Our bodies are what we first give to each other as families--as husband and wife, in labor, in birth, and what we leave at death...In order to cherish the body--both those of others and our own--we must first recognize the inescapable fact that it will one day break down and turn to dust. This should trigger a certain urgency in us to care for one another's arms, feet, and face and to enjoy each and every stage a body passes through on its journey from birth to death.

"...Families everywhere must be fed, sheltered, warmed, and held...but in the end it is the way in which we do these everyday tasks, the spirit in which they are done, that determines the atmosphere of a family. It is the way we feed each other, bathe, groom, clothe and lay us down at night that makes a family...When a husband yells from the bathroom, 'Hey, want your hair washed tonight?' it isn't only hair that gets salon treatment, so does the whole self.

"...Families are complicated weavings of light and dark, of hurt and healing. We will hurt each other in ways we didn't intend. We will even hurt each other intentionally...but our hands can heal...anyone who lays on hands gets attached to life...unlike the mind, a body is never without sensing, even in sleep. A body will always remember" [exerpts from The Art of Family, by Gina Bria]

Daily Meditation

This is the thought I am cultivating in my heart today.

"Where there is no joy, what is the point? A soldier can endure the mud, blood and pain of war by visualizing past or future joys, but a child without joy is a lost soul. Likewise, one can endure a dull or painful occupation, knowing that there is a sanctuary of joy waiting after hours, but when the sanctuary is joyless, what hope can sustain him? A mature wife may cope with a joyless marriage by consoling herself in the hope of afterlife, but a child can't so resign himself. A husband may deal with a joyless marriage by losing himself in the rewards of occupation or hobby, but a child has no outlet that can compensate for loss of relationships. Relationships are part of the adult world, but relationships are all the world to a child. An adult without refreshing relationships may still be successful in his career. He can read, engage in hobbies, or just endure loneliness, but a child without relationships is emotionally ill." --No Greater Joy, volume three (emphasis mine)