Christmas, Ruined--Continued.

So.

I didn't mention one other gift MIL gave me that same fateful Christmas ten years ago. I didn't list it in my previous post as one of the Three Rejections because it was not brought up and held over our heads during the Big Heated Discussion of Christmas Rejections Past we had while in Chico for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago.  But as it made the Catalog of Unforgivable Offenses for several years, it is still worth mentioning.

It's a tragic story. I'll make it brief.

Sometime before Christmas MIL took me shopping in Chico to look for presents for the kids. She took me to a cute little store downtown that has all kinds of fun things for kids--a lot of well made, quality toys. A nice store, if a little expensive.  While we were looking around, I saw a little lap harp, which made me remark off-hand to MIL that someday I'd love to have a hammered dulcimer.  Now, that is truly a desire of my heart, but yet not something that will likely ever be--hammered dulcimers take up a lot of floor space, and they are notoriously difficult to keep in tune, esp. in moist environments (and there are a lot of strings to tune, so maintenance would be no small deal).  And they are very expensive. And I won't have time to learn a new instrument until the kids are out of the house, at the soonest. So, it was a remark made just to be sociable, with no other intent.

Well.

On that Christmas day, as we were opening gifts amid the chaos, MIL handed me a black soft case, that clearly had a musical instrument inside. But the shape left me puzzled--what could MIL be giving me?

And I opened a lovely wooden stringed instrument. But after making some positive oohs of admiration, I had to ask, "What is it?"  And MIL said, with a note of why-are-you-asking-me in her voice, "A dulcimer."  I must have had a dawning look of recognition on my face, because then MIL clarified and added, "You said you had always wanted a dulcimer."  And immediately my heart sank, because there was no way I could go back in time and change the way I had received the gift and show her the enthusiasm she rightly deserved for trying to give me what she thought was the secret desire of my heart.

Turns out, there is more than one kind of dulcimer:

The one pictured on the bottom there is a small hammered dulcimer. (They can be as large as a small desk.)  The one on the top there is a mountain dulcimer, and looks exactly like the one MIL gave me that Christmas.

Oh, how sweet of MIL to hear my spoken wish and then go to real effort to try to make that wish come true. Seriously--that mountain dulcimer was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift I think I have ever received, and certainly so from my MIL.

But. (Of course you knew there had to be a but!)

I know my confusion when I was opening it confused and hurt MIL--she thought I would be delighted, and I am sure that was a let-down.  She had really outdone herself with extravagant gifts that year: the dulcimer, the white gold earrings, the black leather jacket for DH.  She was really trying hard, and here clearly the dulcimer had been wrong somehow and so had been the jacket. . . Sigh. I really feel for MIL when I look back.  (And then the rejection of the dolls a few days later, and then the rejection of the earrings some months later. . . Sigh.)

I am being totally honest here, admitting completely the things DH and I did wrong. Mostly I did wrong.  But also in all honesty, we didn't mean to be so horribly self-focused and picky.  It was like one bad misunderstanding after another, and it all contributed to poor MIL's feelings of Rejection.

Her little Christmas heart was broken.

Over the years since, I have mentally walked back through it all, over and over, thinking about all the things we could/should have said or done differently. If only we had known. If only we had realized.

But one thing I  have decided is that there are some Very Good Things that do NOT make Very Good Gifts.  A safe bet when trying to figure out if something is a good gift is to think, "Would I like someone to give something like this to me in this way?" For example, I think we all agree it is not particularly wise or thoughtful to buy any expensive clothing item for someone else, unless it is accompanied by a gift receipt.  Everyone has different tastes, and no one likes to get clothing they don't like but then feel badly about not wanting to keep.

[Mother, I apologize right now for the striped velour turtleneck top and pants set I bought you for Christmas the year Sunny was born. I was feeling rushed and likely still impaired by birth hormones. Not only was the outfit too big, but it was not your style--even though I still say you could have rocked it. You very politely expressed your concerns as you modeled it for me, and I tried to be enthusiastic about how it would work fine--when instead I should have suggested we take it back and go looking together for something you liked better. Thank you for never holding it against me, and I hope I put the receipt in the bag. ; )  But I learned my lesson well, and have never bought anyone in my extended family clothes again.]

So expensive leather jackets definitely fall into the category of Very Good Things but not in the category of Very Good Gifts, unless you let the person pick it out themselves.  And I've decided the same is true of musical instruments, unless the person has specifically asked for it.  Yes, the gift was very sweet and thoughtful--that is definitely true.  But then MIL persisted in asking every time we saw each other whether or not I had learned how to play it yet.  Um, I was the mother of two young children, with a baby on the way. I really did not have time to learn to play an instrument. So the dulcimer had been tucked out of harms way in my closet, and was waiting for the someday when I would. But MIL took that as a sign of rejection too. After all, why wouldn't I be learning to play it if it was a Good Gift?  For years after she would bring it up, and express her hurt over how I didn't like the instrument, and I would very emphatically tell her I DID like the instrument very much, and that it was one of the sweetest gifts I have every received. Both true!  But she could not believe me because I was not learning how to play it in all my spare time.

But, this one Gift I think has a happy ending. Because when Merry was old enough to learn an instrument, I saw a mountain dulcimer up on Sunny's guitar teacher's shelf, and asked if she knew how to play it and would she be willing to teach little Merry.  The teacher graciously complied, and so Merry took one year of dulcimer lessons. Just enough to learn how to play "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" at the winter recital:

I think MIL finally saw the instrument being used and enjoyed, and so has let that initial disappointment and the subsequent feelings of rejection go.

But I still say that the unfortunate misunderstanding about the hammered dulcimer vs the mountain dulcimer contributed to MIL's feelings about being so thoroughly rejected that particular Christmas.  So I thought I would tell you this story too, so you would understand how so many horrible coincidences and misunderstandings and mistakes worked together to create such a Christmas from which MIL has never been able to recover.

When I look at this photo, which I just discovered while browsing our photo files to determine the exact year of The Fateful Christmas--2004, exactly ten years ago--I don't see any malice in those faces. I just see two very young people who can't imagine the consequences of their ignorance and poor judgement.

(Isn't it a cute photo though? FIL, DH's sister Auntie N, Sunny's foot there kicking up, me, DH, all down at Great-Grandmas.)

Sigh.

To be continued. 

The Year We Ruined Christmas Forever

Ok, so I was planning on blogging about blessings, starting after Thanksgiving. I am still going to do that, but I think it will have to be pushed back until after Christmas. There's something else that has been weighing on me since Thanksgiving--well, actually it has been a Christmas specter for years now, rising up and looming grimly over us like the Ghost of Christmas That Should Never Have Been.  But this year it is all coming to a climax--here's hoping (and praying) that it will all come to good purpose. And that me blogging about it will help release me from the tyranny of the bad feelings--anger, sadness, guilt, resentment.

It all started I think ten years ago, about when Sunny was 4 and Merry 2. I can't remember if we had Happy yet or if she was a lovely little bun in the proverbial oven. Or if its been really 11 years. (Doesn't matter exactly--ten years--oh, the ridiculousness of me having to tell this story ten years later. Ten years of bitterness & bad feelings harbored, fed. Sigh.)

By the way, I don't mean to be melodramatic. I'm just tired, and stressed. Words flow, and I don't feel like couching them here. I mean, I can only think of a few people who will read this, and none of you will judge me for my wording, and I'd like to express myself and feel safe--I think I need such an outlet this week. And I think I may have relayed some of this story before--but I don't think I have ever explained the whole thing. Today I'd like to take the time to write it all out, because I need to process this and I know the writing will help.

So that fateful Christmas ten years (or so) ago, we went to DH's folks' house as usual. It seemed like a normal Christmas, just a little overwhelming. Now that I think about it, it was likely our first Christmas in this teeny little house, which is a worthwhile factor to consider as you hear this story. Christmas morning we were opening gifts with Oma and Opa--what the kids call DH's parents--and all was going fine. But the way they open gifts everyone does it at once, so it can be a little chaotic and you don't really have a chance to chat about gifts as they are opened. Which is also a factor to this story.  And amidst the clutter and chaos, Three Fateful Gifts were given.

The first Gift was a very thoughtful and generous one; MIL had bought me a pair of small white gold hoop earrings. Very thoughtful of her because she recognized that I prefer white gold over yellow. Other than that, there was no conversation about them, no indication of their true worth in the mind of the giver.  I gave warm and genuine thanks to MIL for the gift.

The second Gift was a little less thoughtful, but still generous; MIL and FIL had picked out a black leather jacket for DH. Now, that is also a nice gift.  But. . . here's where I confess that DH and I were not wise and we were ungracious. We both looked at that jacket, and wished they weren't giving it to us. It was a jacket style that would have looked much better on our dads than on DH.  We didn't need the jacket.  We had just moved into a teeny tiny house and we didn't want one. more. thing. to have to squeeze in, let alone something we didn't like.  So when MIL saw our lack of the proper enthusiasm, she very graciously told DH that she could take it back to the store if he didn't like it.  So, after trying it on and thinking for a few days--and me pressuring DH to take his mom at her word and not take home something we didn't want that would take up a lot of closet space--DH told her that he decided not to keep it.

Later of course we realized a) she didn't mean what she had said about returning it, b) she did not return it, and c) she was really, really mad and hurt that we did not take it.  I think they still have the jacket and now FIL wears it. Which would be appropriate, and would not even have to be a negative thing--after all, they bought it because they liked it, right?--except that it is a negative thing because it is a symbol of our rejection of their attempt to show us love.

The third gift--well, first of all, MIL and I have a little disagreement going on whether or not it was a gift to begin with. But MIL says it was, and that's what's important to this narrative, so let's run with that. So the third gift was--ok, I guess I'm not exactly sure exactly what the gift was, so let me just try to explain. At some point before opening gifts on Christmas Day, a red wagon full of dolls was moved next to the Christmas tree.  I admit to some trepidation when I saw that wagon, because that was a lot of dolls, and I did have a fear that they were all supposed to go home with us. But most of the dolls appeared to be dolls MIL had bought at garage sales, the kinds of toys she would routinely buy and then either keep at their house for the grandkids or would try to send home with us. But not the kind of thing she would usually give to one of the kids as a Christmas present. There was one clearly new doll among the bunch though, a nice, albeit large, baby doll.  MIL has dolls and toys throughout the entire house as decorations, but esp. in the living room and under/around the Christmas tree. So a wagon full of dolls might just be decor, or toys they placed in the living room for the kids to play with while we were visiting there.

At no point in the chaotic gift-giving did either I or DH observe MIL giving any of the dolls to the two little girls as Christmas presents.  In fact, I distinctly remember the gift-giving being over and us leaving the room to go finish dinner preparations, and the wagon still sitting there untouched and me thinking, "Well, I guess it is just decoration then."  I am sure the girls played with the dolls at some point of our stay, but I don't really remember anything notable about that.

When it was time to load up all the Christmas gifts, DH and I were really sweating about how much we had to cram in the car, and when MIL wanted to buy us that car top carrier, I remember thinking, "Lady, if it all doesn't fit in the car, what makes you think it all will fit it into the house?!"  In fact, the main reason we did not take them up on the car carrier was because we were worried it would end up being a psychological thing of encouraging even MORE (or bigger!) stuff always being sent home with us every Christmas.  

But then when it was time to leave, and we were almost entirely all packed (to the gills), MIL said, "Aren't you going to take the dolls?"  That was so awkward, because we didn't want to be rude, but of course we were not entirely sure what she was trying to tell us to take. Then it comes out that she intended the dolls--I guess all of them!--to be for the girls. Since the car was jam packed (and since we still didn't know if the dolls were a Christmas gift or just a "here's something fun Oma wants you to have" deal), I suggested we could leave them in Chico for now and the girls could play with them when they visited. But MIL argued that they were for the girls and so we had to at least take one. So I said, sure, why don't we let Sunny pick out one doll. (This is what makes me wonder if Merry was only 18 months--and so this was 11 years ago--or why wouldn't she have been told to pick one out too. . . ? )  And then to I think both our surprise, Sunny did not pick the clearly brand new big Costco baby doll with the cute matching outfit--she picked a very pre-loved garage sale doll, complete with one cloudy eye.  Both MIL and I asked her if she was sure that was the one she wanted to take home, and she said yes. ; )  So, that's the doll that came home with us. (The rest of the dolls have lived since then up in Chico, where they are well enjoyed when we visit. And at some point I snuck the doll she had picked back up to Chico and quietly returned it to the collection, because Sunny did not really play with it.)

So.

Three Fateful Gifts.

The dolls, which we rejected.

The dad jacket, which we rejected.

And then the earrings.  I think this last was the gift that broke the camels back. Because they were post back, which I really don't like to wear, and they were really nothing special looking--just nice plain and modern-looking little hoops on a hinged post.  Nice little earrings!  But not something I ever thought I would wear. And the one time I wore them I really pinched by ear lobe trying to close them. And the style of them is such that the day I did wear them I was totally paranoid that they would be really easy to lose--if one comes unhinged, then the weight from the front would totally pull it out of my ear and it would be lost in seconds. The thought of losing one made me panic, and I didn't want responsibility for that very possible event.  I knew I would probably never wear them again.

I did think about keeping them for my girls someday.  They were small and I have plenty of storage space for one little pair of earrings.

But.  I kinda rebelled. I was overwhelmed with the amount of stuff we had just brought into our house and could not bear the thought of even one more little thing that I had to keep that I didn't want. I was also not a little resentful of how trapped we were feeling by the amount of stuff being given to us, and how we had to keep it because it was given to us for the children. Something in me snapped, and I thought, "I can give this one thing away, because it belongs to me."  But of course I would not be so disrespectful of the gift's value (or of the giver's feelings) to give them away to just anyone--that would be entirely inappropriate!  No, instead I sent them to my little sister to wear in her wedding. She likes white gold too, and the style of the earrings was totally her.  It made me happy to think about her wearing them, and I felt psychological release from the tyranny of Having To Keep Things.

But I fully admit it--it was passive aggressive and neither wise nor loving.  I think I did it as a kind of desperate psychological stand against what feels like a serious oppression, which DH and I have never known what to do about. We feel so helpless when it comes to limiting what comes into our house, in terms of his parents.

I could write volumes about this.  It was not a problem until we had kids & moved to CA. Since then it has felt like a huge problem. I have bins of things under the house we don't want or need but we have to hold on to because they were given to us by DH's parents. BINS. We have overflowing shelves and closets, and no where to put things, and the kids don't play with half of it, and we would be so much happier without it, but we have to keep it because they gave it to us. God's been teaching me over the years to be content in plenty--but I'm also trying to be a good steward of our home, our time, etc. We also really don't want to be ungrateful people, and try to appreciate whatever people give us--but how can we appreciate something that overall has a negative impact on our home? Our marriage?  How can we be legitimately submitting our family values to MIL's desires, chronically?  It just does not seem wise or healthy. But what can we do about it?  We really do want to show MIL and FIL love and appreciation. . . but the burden of their giving feels like shackles to me. . .

I know, I know. I sound all melodramatic. And really, there is SO much more I could write about the Stuff Angst. I'll spare whoever of you are reading this already too long tale.

Well. I don't know how long later MIL did ask about the earrings, and I told her the truth. And she was upset.  I thought they were probably a very sweet impulse buy at Costco, but even if they were, it turns out MIL assigned them a whole LOT of significance, and intended them to represent our relationship, because in countries like Saudi Arabia and India gold jewelry is the only thing a woman truly owns, and it is like insurance against the future.  So for a Mother-in-Law to give gold jewelry to her DIL is a good thing. I don't really understand all that MIL feels it signifies, but I really do appreciate that she had thought and meaning behind her gift.  That she thought she was doing something special.

Oh, why didn't she just tell me what they meant when she gave them to me at Christmas?!  She intended them to be heirlooms--yes, she has said as much, repeatedly--and there I go being so callous. So hurtful.

Yes, I think maybe a little part of me wanted to hurt her. No, that's not right. I have never purposefully wanted to hurt her. But I think I didn't care if she was hurt (see? passive-aggressive) by my giving them away. I was not doing it to hurt her, and I didn't want her to be hurt, but if she was hurt by my choice, oh well.

I do feel badly that MIL (and likely FIL by proxy) felt rejected--for me giving away the earrings, for Doug not liking the jacket, for us not eagerly taking all the dolls.

The dolls was a completely misunderstanding. If we had known the dolls were an official Xmas present we never would have left them behind (or would have made it clear it was only until we could have room for them on the next trip).

The jacket was more intentional on our parts, but still a misunderstanding--If we had known MIL would not return the jacket and would be so mad and hurt, of course we would have taken it and given the appropriate thanks and DH would have pulled it out when they were visiting like we all do with such gifts to show love to the giver.

The earrings were my own rebellion. But still, based upon misunderstanding--if I had known the significance MIL attributed to them I would have kept them.

Sigh.

Ok, it's taken me all day to write this, in little snippets. It's just the beginning of the story, and its not a pleasant story, so its ok if you don't continue to read it, whoever has gotten this far.  It's a very painful story, and one that has gone on and on and on, and which feels like it has come to a head this year.

So, I'm going to try to write more about this later. I just had to get the specifics of the background down, so everything else will be clearer later on.

being okay at the edge of the void

Warning: long post. Hopefully the last long one for a while. : )


I started to write this shortly after the last post. . . so almost a month ago.  But right at that weekend we started a busy season--which I want to tell you all about, since it is all so much more fun than this heavy interpersonal stuff!  But  I do want to finish the story where I left off, because if I am going to share it, I want to be clear about it.  The story is still unfolding, and I have a feeling the best parts are yet to come.

Here's why we thought DH's parents might visit that past weekend:

FIL had sent an email 2 weeks before, asking about good weekends to come visit, and was inquiring about that past weekend specifically, since DH would have President's Day off and so in theory they could have more project time together. Very sweet and thoughtful of him--but also makes me wonder if he knew about the quiet drama playing out interpersonally between me/us and his wife since that fateful first Monday in January.  Or maybe he knew and was still reaching out in relationship, which is so good and so sweet. . . and we kinda ended up rejecting him. : (   When FIL inquired about good weekends, DH acknowledged in a return email that it would be a possible project weekend. . . but did not specifically invite him to come.  In the past his parents have never needed an invitation and would just assume they would come down any 3-day weekend.  So even though we had not technically invited them this time, we thought they would likely be coming anyway.

Of course, we did not extend the official invite because we really did not want them to come--because we were afraid.  Afraid that too little time had passed, that MIL was still really mad and that the weekend would thus be an interpersonal disaster. 

But then we received a box in the mail from MIL a few days before we thought they might be coming,  with Valentine gifts for the kids, which made us wonder--are they coming or not?  So I emailed MIL to let her know the package had arrived safely and tell her how much the kids were enjoying the anticipation of opening the pretty things, and then asked if they were coming that weekend.

In other words, trying to act normal.  The email would be a test to see if MIL was ready to start acting normal too--if we were ready for the "pretend it never happened and move on" phase. But I never got a response, and so I knew--with a mixture of sinking dread and take-a-deep-breath-knew-it-was-coming--that MIL is really, truly, positively mad, and DH and I started to wonder if they were not coming after all, because of it.

So Thurs night DH called his dad, and they talked for a while.  The gist:
--they were not planning on coming
--because they recognized they had not been invited
--DH and his dad did not mention anything specific about anything interpersonal, but just chatted for a while as men do about various projects they were both working on, etc.
--but DH said afterwards his dad sounded hurt and tired and sad.

: (

I have to tell you, while I was so relieved that they were not coming, that last point was sooooooo hard to hear.  It has not been hard for me to think of MIL being angry about the letter, first because it already feels as if she is angry/upset/frustrated/disappointed with us most of the time, and second because I know it is important--necessary--for us to do this, and start the process of being DONE with this sinful and destructive way of relating to one another. I wrote the letter knowing anger would follow, but believing that much, much better things would be enabled after the anger is processed.

But to think about MIL and FIL being hurt. . . that is so much harder to hear.  Esp. if they really don't understand the letter (i.e. MIL can't hear my hopes for better loving that are behind it), and especially after they did SO MUCH over Christmas to show us love. They spent lots of money buying the things we said we wanted (and then some).  They prepared for us, hosted us, fed us, tried to please us, sacrificed for us.  They then kept our kids for us, drove them all the way down from Chico for us. . . . They spent so much time, energy, money, effort, etc. to ACTIVELY LOVE US.  And then here I reward them with harsh words and effectively cutting them off from us.  That's what I imagine they might be thinking/feeling right now.

The thought of them feeling so hurt after all they have done to try to love us well--as best as they know how--just makes me ache.  I can't stand the thought of that, and esp. FIL since he is such a gentle and meek but strong man who works so hard for everyone in the family and who seems to value his children and grandchildren in a very real and sweet way.  I don't even know if MIL shared the letter with him, or if she just told him her interpretation of it, which might be very different (and much worse).  So who knows if he even knows what I said or why--or if he just feels rejected unfairly. 

But even MIL I don't want to be hurt. 

As DH and I talked that week when we thought they would come visit, about the stress of seeing his parents again after the recent conflict, and of how horrible it feels to have caused someone pain, a very powerful visual came to my mind.  I realized I feel like I'm standing on the brink of a huge interpersonal void--a deep, black chasm of hurt.  It's like we/I created this void when we/I challenged those negative ways of relating.  It's looming in front of me, deep and black and scary, and I feel guilty and I want it gone--and so I have the urge to jump. 

Because the void looms, waiting, NEEDING to be filled.  Nature abhors a vacuum, right?  Even interpersonally that is true--and that's why people unconsciously rush to fill awkward silences in conversations.   And that's why for so many years now DH and I have jumped right into the middle of conflicts, to sooth, to smooth over, to fill the negative spaces MIL creates when there is conflict and division.  Conflict creates a rift, a psychological and emotional negative space between us, and the only resolution is healing the rift--filling the void--and until the resolution, there will be tension.  That tension is the subconscious awareness of the void, and the powerful urge to fill it.

And with that realization, God showed me something so important:  Right now, DH and I have to be comfortable living and loving in tension--with the rift still between us and his parents.  Just standing there, at the edge of the void, being at peace and resisting the urge to jump in. Waiting. 

Because no matter how much I long to be done with the tension, the unsettled conflict, the void is not mine to fill.   I long to jump in to fill that void, I empathetically ache to, because I am at heart a people-pleaser, and am fairly (even maybe more than most) sensitive to other people's feelings, and like I wrote before, I now see a life-long pattern of frequently jumping in to cushion my MIL from the harsh consequences of her own interpersonal choices.  In my 18-year-long relationship with my MIL, there have been many voids--or maybe one big long trench?--and for all of that time, DH and I have always jumped into the void, to try to erase it and pretend all is well. 

But we can't jump into the void this time, because doing so would be just repeating the same, failed and fallen interpersonal pattern.  

My Dear Husband and I are in this mess BECAUSE we have always cared so much about MIL (and FIL) not feeling hurt.  We sacrificed ourselves, our marriage, our children for 18 years to protect their (esp. MIL's) feelings.  So trying to shield them from hurt has been part (the root of?) the problem, and therefore cannot be the solution to our interpersonal mess.

So, what can we do?  Just stand there, at the edge of the void, and love, and wait.  Because only God can fill the void.  The whole classical "God shaped vacuum in every human" argument posited by Blaise Pascal way back in the 1600's makes so much sense to me now.  And in this specific case, I know I'm not really to blame for the void between us--I know it is the result of all the negative ways of relating we have allowed to take place between us.  It's the result of sin, and our human failings on both sides.  If the void is made up of sin--anger, malice, strife, bitterness, division, disunity, self-seeking--then the only thing that can ultimately and completely fill that void is the presence of the Holy Spirit.  God in us. God between us. 

For the past month--well, really since that fateful Monday morning in January when this all started--I have been living under the shadow of fear.  I have been totally stressed out by standing there, looking down into that black pit.  I have been struggling with the weight of guilt for causing the void--even if I know that is not true, I know MIL believes it to be true, and that is enough to make me feel guilty.  I have been afraid, so afraid, of the first time we see them and what will happen--and most of all feeling the burden of responsibility for our future together as a family. 

And let me tell you--God continues to be faithful.  He has shown me so many more things in the past couple of weeks, things that are helping me find confidence and strength and freedom from fear.  They will have to wait for another post, because this one is already too long.  But I'll end with the very last mental picture of the situation that God gave me just yesterday, as I sat down to try to finish this post. He showed me that I have been standing there on the brink of the void, looking down--so afraid of jumping, but even more afraid of falling, eyes fixated on that terrible, never-ending darkness. . . and He is telling me to lift my eyes.  To stop looking down into the pit--and look across it.  Because just like Peter walking on the waves, I will be perfectly safe if I just keep my eyes up and stop looking at what is scary, and just focus on the voice of my Savior.

Just look ahead, to the promise of better things, and breathe.

In which I talk myself into posting the letter

All week I have debated sharing the letter I wrote to MIL.  I have questioned whether or not it is wise or loving or respectful or God-honoring to do so.  (And so I have been writing this post all weekend in bits and spurts.)

Reasons to not share the letter:

1) I was pretty blunt in the letter about the specific things that are part of our "normal" ways of relating with MIL that need to change, and  I am sure you all will be appalled. And so, knowing you will feel that way, I don't want to share it because I don't want to seem to slander her.  Also, the things I confront her about are "private" behaviors, reserved for us lucky family members--she does not (usually) act this way in front of other people, and in the public sphere (well, not consciously), and so I don't want to seem to be invading her privacy. 

2) I am still struggling with the whole "sounding self-righteous" thing, like I am sharing these things with you to get you all on my side, or to try to say I am so great at relationships or something.  Ugh.  We're in this relationship together, and I am JUST as responsible for it's current state as MIL.  I am completely culpable.  I am NOT better than her, or thinking I am.  I am sincerely just saddened by how much I and others in my life have lived out so many of our years without spiritual awareness and self-control, and have, as a result, borne "bad fruit" from it that hurt our relationships with others. I have been convicted over the years about my own need to completely own my choices, esp. with my own mouth and attitude;  MIL and I are very similar in some ways, and I too have treated my loved ones, including my husband, in very similar ways at points in my life.  I am NO better.   So not only do I want to keep growing ever closer to being the person God desires me to be, but I am also feeling responsible for my part in how things have turned out with my MIL.  I am partly to blame for how we stand, and I want to completely own my role in our relationship, and make only positive, healing, affirming choices for our future.

3) It is also awkward to post things one has written to a third party.  Not only does it feel like I'm purposefully skewing the story by only sharing my side, but it also feels like I think I'm so wise or brilliant or something, and am bestowing upon my adoring circle of admirers the fount of my wisdom. . . blah, blah, blech.  I don't want to be that person who seems to think that highly of herself and what she writes. How mortifying.

But. 

After all weekend of serious deliberation, I think I have decided to share it anyway, and just ask you all to take it in the best light possible, assuming I mean to neither puff myself up nor pull MIL down, and I will also ask you to choose for yourself if you personally feel it crosses a line of gossip, and then you are free not to read it.  (Since we all have different levels of sensitivity and different spiritual weaknesses about that.)

Reasons to share the letter:

A) I thought about sharing just parts of the letter instead, but really the whole thing is quite to the point about what our relationship has been for so long, and about what I have expressed needs to change.  I do think those expectations could possible be helpful for some of you to read, based upon what you have said to me in private.  I do think this is all part of much bigger things that God is doing in me and hopefully in my MIL too.  Maybe He will even use some of this story to work something good in one of you--I would love to think that the fairly miserable things I have gone through, and am still going through, will have some greater good!

B)  As I wrote that first point above a couple days ago, I had a HUGE moment of clarity--one of those times when I could see the situation from outside myself, as maybe the rest of the world would see it.  CRAZY.   I started by writing that it's just MIL's family who gets the fun of all the negativity, but then I realized, actually no.  Not everyone in the family gets to experience all of it.  Really, while most of the people who share life with MIL receive some degree of her negativity, DH and I get most of MIL's crazy --which of course made me stop and question why?

Imagine a person's world of relationships is like an onion, with different layers of intimacy, starting with the public realm on the outside and progressively getting smaller and more private towards the center.  I think we all do this pretty much--how much we show of our worst selves corresponds with how well we know the people around us, how much we feel like it's their job to know and/or put up with our deficiencies, and how much we feel safe with them.   So we are usually pretty nice and charming to those people we don't know very well on the outside (although not always), but we tend to let our "real" selves hang all out to those in the inner circles--first our extended family, then our close friends, then our immediate family, then--the "luckiest" person in our lives--our spouse.   

Maybe what I just wrote does not seem to fit your world, but it sure does fit mine. And so in this particular case, MIL lets a little bit of the negativity and control issues slip out to her extended family(her nieces and their husbands for example), then quite a bit more to her immediate family (her mother and sisters), then a little more to DH's sister and her husband, and then a lot more to DH himself, and then seems to sometimes hold nothing back with me.  (I am purposefully not going to comment on her relationship with FIL or any friends, because they are not my business, but I will say she respects her husband to the extent she is able and does not rant about him in front of us, while she does rant about us in front of him. So that is worth noting, because it suggests DH and then I are personally at the very bottom of the pecking order.  But it also means that FIL is a wonderful man and we all know it. : ) 

So it is really interesting why I, the person at the bottom of the pecking order, would be on the very inner circle of intimacy (if showing one's worst self = intimacy), because I am the "outsider," the person who married into the family who does not belong, and even during that Monday's rant she argued that I had made it very clear from even before DH and I married that I was not choosing to be part of the family.  She sees me as "other," and that partly explains the hostility.  But then, if I am the one who does not belong, the outsider, why am I one of the ones who get to see the most awful side of her?  Is she unconsciously trying to chase me away?  Is she blaming & punishing me for her misery, because life would be so much better if somehow I had never entered the picture and made everything go awry?  Or is she unconsciously testing me, to see how far she will go before she can drive me away?  Or am I somehow truly "safe"?  If so, that is one twisted compliment. 

The fact that I am on the very most inner circle of MIL's "onion" is why I am taking this relationship so seriously.  But when I was writing the other day, the meaning of the concentric circles of increasing intimacy (and sin, and misery) also really hit me, and I could "see" the onion so clearly for the first time ever.  And I realized how CRAZY it is that DH and I are on the inner circles of misery, and it is because WE HAVE CHOSEN TO BE.  The reason MIL does not let the yucky stuff fly with extended family (like the cousins we spend holidays at their house with) is because she knows they will call her on it, and she is smart enough not to put herself into that awkward position of being challenged for her behavior in front of others.  She knows she can't get away with it.  But DH and I, on the other hand. . . we have PUT OURSELVES into this place of being the easy, available targets.  We are not in this vulnerable and painful position because we chose to be in relationship with her, but because we have chosen to be enablers in relationship with her. 

I mentioned the other day that about 10 years ago there was a pivotal event, and it forever changed the course of my/our relationship with MIL, for the better.  One of the revelations that came out of that event was the realization that DH and I were reaping what we had sown ever since we got married.  For the first five years of marriage we had allowed MIL to dictate so much of our lives, and had hidden our true selves, and had pretty much been malleable and weak and soft in all the ways we should not have been, and so when suddenly something mattered and I was trying to take a stand, it did not work at all.  And in my shock, God was able to whisper to me, and show me that for those five years we had taught MIL that she had control over us in ways that were not right, and not really true.  We had always just done whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and put up with anything she threw at us (but only when we were with her of course), and it was always done purely from good motives: to respect DH's parents and to try to keep peace.

Although writing that, I just realized it is not true.  It's partly true, and what we were trying to aim for, yes.  But clearly the #1 factor in how we were relating to her was FEAR.

C)  And maybe that is the biggest reason why I want to write about all this--because I am starting to come out from under years of living under legalism and being motivated by unhealthy things like fear and insecurity and feeling like I have to earn love, that I have to prove my worth.  Feeling that I have to defend my right to be treated well.  I don't want to live in fear anymore, and right now I am a little fearful of sharing the letter, because of how you all might view me or how in theory I would be hurting MIL's feelings if she knew.  Forget that.  In this one area of my life, I am tired of always trying to be perfect and please everyone else. 

I am also sick and tired of glossing over other people's hurting me.  Even defending their mistreatment.  Part of me being the problem and enabling the sin is that I try to deflect the consequences of a person's bad choice away from them, to almost buffer them from the harm they are causing themselves and others!  This might be partly just the way I am wired, because I am a people pleaser at heart, but I have been doing it to an unhealthy extent, for a long time, and esp. with my MIL.  I have to stop protecting her from the consequences of what she has been doing for so long.

D)  Also, God has been showing me a lot of Scripture recently about the sin happening in the dark, and how bringing things out into the light brings understanding, freedom, and healing.  (I started to share verses here, but it was too hard to write it all out, since I felt like I had to interpret them as a theologian, so if you want to know verse just ask me and I will share them!)  The bottom line is that
I want to speak plainly, but respectfully, of what has happened, and get it out in the light. Because if I don't talk about it, because of worrying about being disrespectful to MIL, it's like I am still pretending all is well.  Like I am living in fear.  Like I am still covering over the sinful behavior to shield it from the bold, uncompromising light of day.

But fear lurks in the darkness, and sin thrives there.  I'm so tired of darkness.  I want freedom, and exposure, so healing can REALLY begin.

E)  Finally, I wondered to myself the other day in the car if there was a group of people with whom I could share this part of the story without feeling like I was gossiping or slandering my MIL.  I realized yes--a private therapy group.  So, you are all now officially my private therapy group, and we all know that means the things I say here are confidential, so I am going to assume you all are trustworthy. : )  Just please remember the "But" above, and the context in which I am sharing this.


May God's light shine fully in all of our lives today, for His Good purposes!  AMEN.

Still Here in the New Year!

Apparently going private has been the death knell for my blog. 

Well, this Fall was extremely busy--more than usual, and Fall is always our busiest time of the year, as most of you with kids can relate to.  This of course means less time for blogging, and more of an urge just to mindlessly troll youtube instead of blogging when I do have free time.  But I think it was more than that--somehow going private felt like closing a door.  I mean, I knew it would feel like that, but thought it would feel more like being inside a cozy room with a warm fire and hot tea and crumpets on the table, and welcoming friends in and shutting the door against the cold.  But it has ended up feeling more small and claustrophobic and. . . alone than that.  As if I'm the only one in the room with the fire and tea with the door shut, just sitting by myself in the warm quiet, staring at the dying embers. . .

Ok, melodramatic.  I was just trying to come up with a picture to go along with the feelings. : )  But this feeling of being more alone is not unfounded; at least one of you few readers contacted me to say you were having difficulty (perhaps still are?) figuring out how to access the blog.  Maybe there are more of you who have not been able to figure it out. 

And if the whole password thing makes it harder or feel like more of an effort to get into the blog, maybe some of you will just stop coming by. . .

And now that it is private, I know updates don't show automatically in feeds and sidebars (or am I wrong about this?) and that too makes it just that much easier to forget to stop by and read.  (In fact, I know some of you have subscribed by email--did this post show up in any feed or email? I would love to know if it did, so you are getting some notice when there is something new here to read.)

And finally, I really liked the blog being public because I harbored the fantasy that God could lead anyone here who might need it--who maybe could use a friendly word, or some encouragement, or to see they are not alone in feeling the way they do about parenting or whatever.  Does that sound egotistical?  I just enjoyed feeling like this blog could be used by God, if He wanted to.  It actually feels more self-indulgent to me to write in this closed circle of safety--where I know I am loved and supported no matter what I write.  I have learned as I get older that it seems like God rarely puts us in safe and cozy places when He desires us to serve Him fully.  So, I'm not saying He was using my blog--but occasionally it seemed like He did, and I loved the thought of it being in His service.

But ANYWAY, it's done, we're private, and it's a brand new year, so I figure I'll just make the most of it for now--which means write about all the things I would want to while it is private, and then always leave myself the option of going back to public down the road. : )

And in the meantime, there is SO MUCH I would love to share with any of you who do stop by.  So my one and only New Year's Resolution this year is to write more again.  Try to make it short and sweet--easier to write, less daunting/snoozeworthy for you to read. ; ) 

(That does not mean I don't have other goals for this year--but they are so much more of the bigger picture that God is showing me that I don't want them to feel like things I'm flippantly resolving to do for a year.  And let me tell you, God has been showing me SO MUCH.)

So I hope you are all doing well, and have started your New Year with fun and family and health and safety and meaning and love and peace. 

Going Private--for my MIL

Some of you are still visiting with some regularity--thank you for caring and still stopping by every now and then, even when I'm not blogging as much!--and already noticed the little announcement at the top of the page.  And those of you who enjoy mega-posts--today you are in luck! Everyone else, you have been warned. ; )  Yes, the day has finally come.  I want to keep blogging, and to be able to share openly about whatever is on my heart and mind--and I want this blog to continue to feel like a safe space in which to do so. 

My main concern of course is my MIL.  When I first started blogging about our relationship, I thought it was healthier to do so with the knowledge that someday she might find the blog, and would then most definitely read it.  That thought gave me some necessary accountability, and really helped me choose my words and focus on the positive when I wrote about her and me.  But, this past Spring I started to write about me and MIL more, and with more detail and negativity.  Not that I think I've been more negative, but I have been more honest about what things have really been like for the past 18 years, which is itself negative--and which makes it all the better for anyone to appreciate how amazing things are now in comparison!  But as a result, I had three women whom I respect privately ask me if I thought it was wise to write so openly, knowing my MIL could find it.  I so appreciated their caring enough to gently question my wisdom and sensitivity.  And I listened.

You know, back when I started writing, things were pretty bad, and I did not share much of it.  What I did share, I figured if it was found by my MIL it might well make her upset (not because I was being untruthful or disrespectful, because I was really being careful not to be either, but just because I was writing about her/us at all--like finding out someone has been talking about you behind your back), but it could maybe then be an impetus for change in our relationship.  Our relationship was already so bad I really had nothing to lose, and she would not have realized then that she did have anything to lose.  So thinking about her finding the blog was a little scary, but I also felt that if it was found someday, it would likely be a relief, and maybe she would finally hear everything I have been thinking, feeling, and trying to share for years.  And maybe it would have helped her step outside of her own headspace for a bit, and help her see what her actions and words looked like from other people's point of view.  In other words, to help her see how unhealthy and sinful our relationship was--because maybe if she did not like what others saw, she would want to change that.

And let me just be brutally honest for a minute--I put up with so much crap over the past 18 years, that part of me was not overly concerned about her feelings.  She was always talking about everyone behind their backs all the time and saying much less hopeful and truthful things than I was, which understandably did not inspire me to be oversensitive to her potential feelings.   

But now. . . things are better. Miraculously so.  Our relationship has improved so much it is hard to believe.  It feels like God did His good work in me for years and years, slowly, with me fighting every step of the way because it hurt and didn't seem fair and I didn't want to do it and what about MY feelings, what about ME?  But He was persistent, and insistent that I change my heart, and grow up in Grace a bit.  He convicted me that He was calling me to LOVE my MIL (not in feelings, but in actions--doing what is loving), and so I have been slowly figuring out what that really means, and learning to depend upon Him to do it through me. 

And then it seems like He started His good work in my MIL at some point (maybe all along--only they know) and we have been seeing real fruit for going on two years now.  I think God had to grow me enough so I would recognize when MIL was growing, trying to be gracious--so I could get out of the way, and be a help and not a hindrance to it!  That does not mean the past 2 years have been all roses and sunshine--no, things have still been painful at times.  But the difference between ten or even six years ago and now is seriously staggering.

The Holy Spirit whispered to me years ago that someday my MIL would look back over the years and realize I had been a friend to her.  It was so hard to believe at the time--that was back when things were terrible, which is one way I know that was a word from God and not just my own imagination.  I could not have imagined it.  But now, things are slowly, slooooooowly starting to move in the direction of us being not just polite to one another (which for years seemed impossible) but even to be companionable with one another.  It will take a long time before anything remotely like friendship is realized--which is why I think the vision the Holy Spirit gave me was when she and I are both much older!--but I think it is now at least imaginable down the road.

Which brings me back to this post now, and the issue of making the blog private.  Before, I did not want to make my blog private just because of MIL, because it would seem like I was doing so out of fear, or from being sneaky--and I would rather my blog have been discovered by MIL than to feel like I was doing either.  But now my heart is in a different place, and I know God has entrusted me with the knowledge of just how fragile this growing relationship is, and that MIL is vulnerable--and I don't at ALL want to do anything to hurt this healing, to set back our growth!

So, I thought about keeping this blog public, but taking down anything having to do with MIL.  Hmmmmm.  There are some posts that never quite sat right with me, which I would be glad to un-publish; but there are too many other bits of our relationship story that are so heavily entwined with my own spiritual growth story, and I don't want to take them out.  God has used my MIL to grow me--as I have always said, jokingly (but not), "Nobody can send me faster to the foot of the cross than that woman!"  And ultimately, that is a good thing.  I believe He has used and is using me to grow her too.  The refining process has not been pretty, but it has so far proven fruitful, and I really and truly want to celebrate that. 

Also, I have had so many women share with me privately that they too have difficult relationships, and suffer in them.  And what I have realized is that lots of us do--but we never talk about it openly, because that would seem like complaining, or gossiping, or being malicious, or even just focusing on the negative, and those of us who are seriously desiring to please God are really trying not to do any of those things.  But this means that a lot of suffering goes on quietly, and women are at a loss for how to handle their feeling and frustrations and fears.  They could really use encouragement from other Christian women who are working through the same things--but since none of them talk about it, they don't realize they are not alone.  So I have always written in the hopes that doing so I might be able to bless someone else--and I think that has happened. 

I have always tried to write with honesty, but also respect for my MIL, and to focus on the positive.  I have been so thankful that in our whole long 18 +  years of relationship, I have never consciously sinned against MIL.  I have not lashed out in anger,  I have not said things in anger I wished I could take back, I have never tried to hurt her, I have never been glad when she was upset or hurt.  I have always tried my best to get along, to keep peace, to speak truth, to do what I can to help healing between us.  I have not done any of these things perfectly--let me say it plainer than that: I have messed up trying to do all of these things well.  BUT I have never knowingly sinned against my MIL. 

Well, to her face that is.  My biggest struggle has always been the sometimes constant thinking negative things about her.  THAT has been a huge issue for me--keeping my thought-life honoring to God.  In my own defense, it is hard to think positive things when you are yourself being force-fed a constant flow of over-the-top negative things.  For many years, I allowed my mind to be given over to the fear and worry and futile and pathetic desire to please and to dwell on all the hurtful and cruel words that had been spoken over me--and for a long time I had no control over my thoughts about my MIL.  I not only dwelled on the negative when I was with her, but when I was not with her too.  I would find myself multiple times a day nursing old wounds, or inventing conversations in which I was the victor and not the victim.  It would especially happen anytime I was doing any housework--since that was one thing that was always used by MIL to assert superiority over me, to point out my inadequacies, to lord bitter triumph over me when I inevitably failed to meet the inspection.  I realized my thought patterns had a terrible, sinful grip on me when I could not even wash the dishes without reliving or imagining negative things involving my MIL at least 20 times.  The negativity was taking over my mind--and that was crippling sin. 

And God is just now showing me another area in which I was sinning against her for all those years--I was nursing a grudge against her.  But both of these issues were not conscious sins against her, and for that I am grateful.

Over the course of many years I worked on changing those negative, sinful ways of thinking about my MIL, with God's wisdom and help, and that's why I was trying to be so careful not to sin against my MIL in what I wrote here in my blog.  I think I succeeded overall, until this past Spring.  I never said so at the time, but I fell into a dark place this past Spring.  Looking back, I see I was slipping into it even in early January, and it lasted until May.  Even after the big hold the darkness had on me was broken by God's mercy, the emotional and psychological effects of it lingered until just a few weeks ago. I think I am truly out from under it now--praise be to our Good Lord Jesus for delivering me--and I can look back now and see how I was a different person in some ways during that time.  I hid it somewhat well from the outside world, but one thing I noticed was that I was becoming more frank about how things were with my MIL here on my blog, and I was starting to write with more complaint and almost a tattling spirit.  I think I was so emotionally stricken that I stopped caring about writing carefully.  I still don't know if that ventured over into sin. . . . Was that gossip?  Was that slander?  Is it gossip anytime we mention someone else in our stories?  Is it sinful to be vulnerable in our hurting?   But I do know that it was not focusing on the positive, and was not written with the previous desire to be respectful.  I was walking wounded, and wrote out of that woundedness.

I am so thankful now that I feel healed.  Possibly in a really big, life-changing way--time will tell.  I think where I am now is an even a better place for growing in relationship with MIL.  So I want to be loving and respectful to her in anything I write.  But I also want the freedom to write my story--our story--as I feel led. 

So, it's time to make the blog private.  I realize that since I have been so sporadic in my blogging since last Spring there is a good chance that there are only a few of you still reading.  That's ok--it's good for my pride. It also makes it easier to not worry that I am depriving an appreciative world of the wealth of my insight.   (Typical blogger folly = assuming I have things to say, and everyone cares if I do or not! ; )  But those of you who are still around, I think I will need to add you manually to the approved reader list.  (Jessica, please do share any advice you have for me about this, since you have done it before.)   I do not want to assume any of you previous readers still want to be reading, so I will not add you unless you request (except for you, Mom ; )  So would you please email me at the address above (which I have added spaces to, to keep trolling spam programs from grabbing it--hope that works) if you would like me to add you?

My feelings will not be hurt if I don't get many requests.  This has never been a blog with a large readership, and now most of my old readers have moved on.  I started this blog simply as a way of sharing life with my mother, my best friend Susan, and my sisters.  Any of you who have joined my journey along the way--thank you for sharing some of it, and your presence has been a blessing to me. 

Much love to you all!

Blessed
 

Anti-Procrastination--and a story

I wrote this yesterday, but did not post it because I wanted the Princess Penny auction to have center stage. : )  Doesn't matter--it is just as relevant today, as you will see!

--------------------------

It's Wednesday, and that means the weekly Anti-Procrastination Day.

And this week, I mean business.

Just recently I realized how much mental baggage I am carrying around with me daily from things undone that I really want/need done.  They are a drain on my thinking, and when I let them go too long they start to drag at my spirit.  There was something in particular that had been on my to-do list since my big GET IT DONE push this past Spring--and one week ago I still had not done it.  And since telling you all about this is one more thing I have been meaning to do for some time, this is the perfect day to do so!

You see, our neighbors on one side of us had a little dog named Willa, who for a while kept escaping from their yard, and running away down our busy road.  Of course any time we heard them calling for her we would go help look--that's what neighbors do!  But then they must have figured out where she was getting out and fixed the problem, because months went by without a single escape, and thus without us really interacting with them. 

But during those months our neighbors (who were living together but not married) went through a bad relational spell, and were fighting all the time.  And the woman was a yeller.  Our house is only about 5 feet from their house, and our walls are thin--we couldn't hear most of the words (although often we could) but we could hear the raging and miserable voices rising and falling, and things slamming and banging.  Sometimes I was really concerned that she was going to make him so mad he would  hurt her, because she was truly a shrieking harpy, attacking him, tearing him apart.  It was really ugly.  Sometimes they would start in yelling and the kids would be lying in bed listening to it for over an hour as they were trying to fall asleep.  I didn't know what to do about it--so we would just put on music, or talk to the kids about sin and how it consumes us and hurts our relationships if we let it, and pray for the neighbors.

I think they knew we could hear them.  They probably heard me yell at the kids enough to know how sound carries between our houses (I often find myself yelling to the kids to do/stop doing X, Y or Z while I am standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes before dinner--the place closest to their house where the sound probably travels the best.  I love being such a great example of parenting to the world. Sigh.).   And I know the woman at least felt badly about it--because one day this past Spring as we were sitting quietly schooling in the living room, the girls saw Willa running down the road again.  Of course I ran over to knock on the neighbor's door to tell her, and was thankful that they were home.  The neighbors went searching, and found her within 10 minutes--ironically in our backyard (she must have run through a different neighbors yard down the road and then backtracked up the creek).  So, it was all over very quickly, and was not really that big of a deal.

But then half an hour later, there was a knock on our door, and there stood the neighbor lady, with a large gift bag in her hand.  She wanted to thank us for what great neighbors we are, and of course I just said that's what neighbors do, but then she apologized for how they were not great neighbors, and the way she said it I knew she meant the fighting.  So she and I made it a quick and slightly awkward but friendly exchange.   Once inside, we opened the gift bag to find a large plastic tub of craft bits (with a $30 price tag on the bottom!) for the kids.  And then there was also a card for me--the wording of which confirmed my suspicion that this gift was given more as an apology than a thank-you.  Inside the card was a gift certificate to a local upscale kids/home boutique--for the amount of $300.  Yes, three hundred dollars. 

Of course I flipped out a little, and thought we can't accept this!  It was clearly a guilt offering.  Accepting it would be like taking blood money, a bribe to keep our eyes averted from the carnage.  But yet. . . I thought about the few exchanges I had earlier with this neighbor, who had lived next to us for about one year.  How I took her some fresh picked strawberries, and she brought over a rainbow-maker for the kids' window.  How I took her some fresh picked tomatoes, and she brought over a potted orchid for my kitchen windowsill.  Gift-giving seems to be one of her main love languages, as it is one of mine.  I thought about how I would be feeling if I was in her place--probably being really hard on myself for how poorly I was reacting to the conflict between me and my partner, and then also feeling so guilty for not being able to stop it, even if I knew it was negatively affecting others.  I would be feeling really vulnerable, and wanting to be accepted and loved and forgiven.  If gift giving is really one of her love languages, then giving back the gift would be like rejecting her love--and being critical not only of her in her weakness, but also of her attempts to make things right!

But I also felt badly keeping it.  It was just so over-the-top.  Finally, I decided we would use some of it to buy something fun or useful for our family, and with some of it I would try to buy something little and meaningful for the neighbor as a thank you back, and then the rest of it I would ask the store if we could break up into two separate gift certificates, like $100 each.  I can then give those to our local Crisis Pregnancy Center for a silent auction they have coming up--using this woman's love offering to spread even more love around our community. 

But most importantly, I needed to give the neighbor a big THANK YOU that would show her the forgiveness and acceptance and love I think she wished for.

But.  This is where perfectionism and life got the best of me.  Because  this happened right in the middle of all the stressful, busy, overwhelming season I had this past Spring, and I had in my head the "right" way to say thank you (for the kids to make a rainbow craft from some of the goodies from the big jar the neighbor had given them, because we know she likes rainbows) but that ended up being just one more thing to do and our weeks were already so full, and to also invite the neighbor over for tea and some "girlfriend" chat, because maybe God wanted me to minister to her heart with some loving, encouraging words, but my house was such a wreck and I was such a wreck and so I kept thinking I would get everything "right" and then take over the thank you/invite the next week. . . .  And I kept meaning to, and meaning to.

Finally, I decided the Week Without Children would be a good time for uninterrupted, adult conversation, and made up an invitation for tea in my kitchen and asked her to contact me to arrange it at her convenience.  I waited until after the mail carrier had come by, and then walked over and slipped it into their mailbox with the other letters.  And never heard from her.

But then about 2 weeks ago I started to notice some things were different over there.  Our houses are very close together, but their front entry and driveway are on the other side from us, with tall privacy fences in between, so we really don't see the neighbors coming or going or notice what they are about unless they come over to the far side of their back deck, which overlooks our yard.  But I started to notice all the usual things from the deck weren't there any more.  I didn't hear the neighbors as much (the terrible fighting stopped shortly after the big gift, so maybe the two are connected--I don't know), and somehow the house just started to seem less occupied. So on July 30 in the evening I asked DH to walk over and peek into their windows (looking through their front fence into the big picture window in their living room--not being a peeping tom, because anyone could do this just walking by) to see if he saw anything amiss. And he came back and reported that it looked like they were moving, as most of their furniture was gone.  And he suggested that since the next day was the last day of the month, they would probably finish moving their stuff out that next day.

Ack!  No more time to procrastinate!  So the next morning I wrote out the thank-you note I should have written months earlier, and ran over and taped it to their gate.  Then the girls all sat at the kitchen table and made the sweetest big rainbow out of heavy cardstock and tissue paper and colorful embellishments and cotton ball clouds and a big red heart.  It took all day (except for lunch and some errands), and we finished right before having to leave for swimming lessons at 5pm.  It was still tacky with glue, but I was worried the neighbors would come and get the last load of stuff in the driveway before we got back from swimming.  And my timing was perfect, because when I ran over, there was a friend of theirs loading up the stuff from the driveway, and so he opened the garage so I could put the art in it by the very last load they would come back for (and I taped the thank you note on the back).  I am sure now they must have received it.   

I also found out from the friend that they only moved across the creek!  So they are still very near, and so I have hopes that the woman will contact me and say yes to my invitation, which I repeated in the thank you  note.

We'll see.  It's possible that my months of delay acknowledging the extravagant gift hurt her feelings and put a wedge between us.  It's possible she wants a clean break from their rough relational patch while living next door to us, and getting together with me would seem to defeat that.  It's possible she does not want to talk about anything personal, and fears I would want to.  None of this matters.  I thanked, I invited, we crafted and gifted.  I did what I needed to do to get the weight of the undone off my shoulders.

And it feels sooooooo good! 

Once the art and note were delivered, I felt free.  Spiritually so much lighter.  I did not realize how much weight just that one big undone thing carried.  I think it weighed so heavily because it involved the feelings of another person--and me imagining the unlove I might be causing that person to feel, which led me to feel guilty.  I have to remind myself that I did not ask for the overwhelming gift, it came at a really bad time, and I did not handle it like I should have, but it is over now.  DONE.  I refuse to carry any lingering remorse or guilt about it.  I will do what I intended with the gift certificate, and then that will be done too.  I even just got a notice that the charity auction is coming up, and the timing could not be better. And when I go shopping with the remainder, I will allow myself to enjoy it, and be thankful.  : )  I will be blessed by it and pray God blesses my former neighbor too.

But the huge release I have already experienced just from delivering the art and note leads me to think--what else have I been dragging my feet on that is a huge burden in my life/heart/house/thinking/energy/spirit?  I want to seek out those things and GET THEM DONE.  I have enough to worry about in every day--I don't want excess!

So even before I got out of bed this morning I thought about the things that I wanted/needed to do, the things that seemed most urgent or that I was spending too much time thinking about.  I'm making my list--and this time I'm not going to list everything, but just a few specific things, and then just get them done.

I meant to start today.  But this is a "summer school" week and my kids are choosing poorly and yesterday they did not get their (minimal) work done and I am finding I have to stay on top of them today (i.e. hang out here in the living room where they are working) to keep them focused and choosing well.  So, I could feel defeated before even starting my Anti-procrastination push.  But I'm just choosing instead to be happy for lots of blogging time today, and make firm goals for the big push.  I hope to blog more specifically about it tomorrow--and will let you know when I'm starting, in case you want to jump in the fun with me!  We can encourage one another! 

Happy Wednesday Thursday everyone!

On Gay Marriage--with more question marks than exclamation points

Sometimes when I am quiet on this blog it is because I am spending my blogging time writing on someone else's blog. Yes, that's the vanity of bloggers--getting so sure of our own voices that we jump into discussion elsewhere, assuming we are most welcome. ; )  I don't post long comments to other people's blogs often--just when it seems welcomed and warranted.  And sometimes it is better to blog elsewhere, where the topic has already been raised, then here on my own blog, where my opinions might make someone feel less welcome.  I would never want that!  I want this blog to be a safe place for people to visit--and I hope anyone who visits feels welcome and never attacked.  I also never want my visitors to think I am saying my perspective is the right one, and hope you all who read feel comfortable commenting and even disagreeing with me.  (As long as we all stay kind. : ) 

So, there are things going on in the world that I do have strong opinions about that I've never gone into on this blog.  Sometimes because I imagine you are as tired as I am of hearing about them!  And sometimes because I imagine you might be feeling like I am, that there is always someone pointing fingers and name calling those who disagree with them, and so you just don't want to go there.  It feels pretty much like a person is wrong for his or her own opinions about anything wherever they turn in the media/social media.  I might disagree with someone about something, but I try to always see where they are coming from, and affirm their right to their voice, and a different opinion.  At least, I hope I always do. 

Anyway, a few weeks back I was led to this blog post about different Christian perspectives on gay marriage.  It had some of the best dialogue (at least in the comments) I have come across in the whole big national debate--but most importantly, it had some of the most reasonable discussion.  It was a safe place to voice an opinion and be treated with respect.  So I ended up writing my own stance, which I decided to share with you here too:


I find myself in a fascinating place of “betweens”:

–Honored to have gay and lesbian friends and also very conservative Christian friends.
 
–Very aware that in Christ I have the full freedom to love them all, equally, without reservation.

–Christian, but fully aware that I do not (yet?) understand what God thinks about his gay children marrying, but do know that He loves them.

–Pro-civil unions, but saddened by the political usurpation of the covenantal term “marriage” (I think all legally-recognized unions should be civil, and the sacrament of Christian marriage should have nothing to do with the government–too late to turn back that clock, however!)

–Very glad that there are churches that welcome and embrace homosexuality, since I don’t (yet?) know what God thinks about it and gay marriage. But also proud of my church and pastors for not capitulating to cultural pressure to say it is Ok when they believe God’s Holy Word says otherwise. We are in one of the most liberal areas in the US, but our pastors and church body manage to walk that fine line of welcoming and truly loving people, but also not being ashamed to speak what they believe is God’s Truth. God is not politically correct, that I know for sure.

–Believing that our government did (albeit unintentionally) guarantee same-sex marriage in its original documents, when it built our nation upon the right to “pursue happiness.” But also believing that the church must not have the same definition of liberty—our definitions and understandings of such terms must come from Scripture, and from the closest, most accurate reading of it, regardless of whether or not it says what we want it to say.

–Wanting only the best for my GLBTQ (and whomever else I am omitting) friends, and those who are going to be entering into same-sex marriages. I am so happy for them for finding love, and do believe that ANY human love is the result of the lingering image of God within us—we can only love at all because of Him, so any love is worth celebrating—but yet if I do believe that same-sex love is not what God intended, and may be outside of His will for His beloved children, then how am I loving my GLBTQ friends by pretending all is well?

–Actually being quite comfortable with the conundrum above, since I believe we can love people fully, and speak the truth as best we know it, and still live in unity. But very few other people seem to be comfortable with it—needing others to think as they do.

–Really uncomfortable with ANYBODY, on either side of the issue, who claims complete authority about their interpretation of God’s word. Why don’t we hear more qualifiers when people write/speak? Whatever happened to phrases like “according to a traditional interpretation of Scripture. . . ” or “As best as I can understand this passage. . . “? Everyone writes as if they are the final word. (Kudos to Preston Yancey for his carefully-written stance.)

–Concerned that there is such a thing as a slippery slope—and while I completely agree with the commentator who said she would much rather be on the slipper slope with the Holy Spirit than on seemingly firm ground, it sure seems to me that there is historical precedent for and fine logical thinking behind some people bemoaning some of the potential places they foresee this historic moment taking us.

And speaking of which, I used to teach rhetoric at a large university, and taught my students to address “likely objections to their argument” in their persuasive writing. When I see Christians theorizing about the implications of cultural trends, and projecting the future path of our nation, I see a lot of negative backlash from those who disagree, but rarely a logical address of their insights and concerns. In other words, it is really easy to shout things like “hate speech!” and “homophobe” and “fear-monger!” but much less easy to form a clearly-articulated and well-reasoned address of the actual concerns raised. And NEITHER side is very good at anticipating and addressing “likely objections.” While I agree that the original authors of this post did not end up representing a very broad spectrum of opinions on this topic, I have appreciated that the comments section has been overall lucid, respectful, intelligent, and has better addressed dissenting views.

Just a few thoughts to add to the discussion. No human issues are only black and white, and I wish more people were willing to live in the “gray” spaces between. Not saying my “between” stance is the only correct one to have–and thus negating the very idea of it!–but saying I very much appreciate people who are willing to be vulnerable, and seek to understand others, and not claim to have all the answers, not even claiming to have all the questions, but doing their best to love no matter what.

______________

I didn't share the more personal stuff.  Like the fact that DH and I have gay and lesbian friends in real life.  That I actually believe there is nothing wrong with gay and lesbian relationships and believe I am not only called to love all people, but am called to be true friends with them.  I think they should be allowed to marry--in a legal espousement.  But I also think all this changes when the people in question are professing faith in Christ.  Then--I don't know.  I have read lots of theological views about why God does not want his children in homosexual relationships--and their interpretations of Scripture seem sound. Their arguments are logical.  I have also read arguments that attempt to prove that we have traditionally misinterpreted those same passages of Scripture, and God is not anti-homosexuality but actually anti-pederasty (for example). 

I need to tell you that I WANT to be convinced that God is fine with active homosexuality in his faith-professing children, and that He supports gay marriage.  But I have not been convinced--so far the interpretations and explanations of Scripture seem to make more sense the other way.  If anyone reading this wants to recommend a book that successfully posits the Bible as pro-gay stance, please feel free to recommend it. 

Most of all, I want to take God at His word, and not fall into the trap of reading into His word what I want it to say.

I am also confused because there is clear biological evidence that what we call gender is actually much more fluid in it's physical construct than we may have previously believed.  It is really a spectrum,  like so many other things about our physical/emotional/mental natures.  Our biology makes some men more slender and have higher-pitched voices--i.e. slightly more "feminine."  Similarly, some women are stronger and have lower voices--or more facial hair.  Do we say God messed up in making them?  That He clearly slipped a little too much of one gender into the batter on accident?  Or did He make them just like He wanted them--at just a  slightly higher or lower place on the spectrum than what we would expect?

Some people are born with both sets of genitalia, and their "true" gender is not even expressed until they hit puberty.  Again, did God mess up?  Is their condition the result of the Fall, and how all of creation has been perverted away from His original, perfect design?  Or are they perfect, just as they are? 

Some people are born with genetic variances so that they express one  gender their whole life--but in actuality their chromosomes are those for the opposite gender!  Yes, such things happen, and learning about them was the first thing that made me wonder if God might just actually make some people gay.  I strongly urge anyone who is also wrestling with these ideas to watch this video. 

Then again, being created physically to be "gay" might have nothing to do with what God expects of us in terms of Righteousness. 

And I firmly believe that God would not create anyone without any choice but to sin.  How could He? 

But I do also believe we can have genetic pre-disposition to things that could more readily lead us to sin--like chemical imbalances in the brain that are inherited by future generations (we are learning more about this all the time through research into epigenetics).  Also, there are things that we as humans are doing to our environment that are having consequences we never would have anticipated--so then do we say the gender expression differences that come from human meddlings are personal sin or "the sins of the fathers vested upon the children"?  Either way, what do we say to those men and women with corrupted DNA when they show up at church ready to profess faith in Christ but not ready to give up their same-sex partner and commit themselves to a life of celibacy? 

Sigh. 

So, that's why I wrote the above to that web dialogue--to represent the middle ground of people who just don't know what to think, and who don't assume they know what God thinks about it all.  I know what I *think* He says about homosexuality, and what I can then infer He thinks about gay marriage. But I also know Jesus wept.  He knows our human struggles and His heart broke for us--and His love covers all sin.  His quiet voice stills all confusion--but have we learned how to listen?  

I really appreciated this article for how it questioned why we as Christians are so up in arms over gay marriage, something Jesus did not specifically talk about in Scripture, when we are at the same time so conveniently ignoring other things He said loudly and clearly.  One of my favorite quotations from the piece:  "Maybe we should all be required to pick an issue that requires US to change and not OTHERS to change." Now that thought perfectly reflects Jesus. 

One book I just heard about yesterday, which I am now very interested in reading: The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert: An English Professor's Journey Into Christian Faith by Rosaria Champagne Butterfield.  (Isn't her name straight out of a novel?)  She was a tenured professor at Syracuse, and a lesbian in a committed long-term relationship.  And then. . . God happened.

So, there you go.  I'm out of the closet, so to speak, about my feelings and thoughts about gay marriage.  To sum it all up: I don't know.

Last thought: DH's best friend from high school is a wonderful man named Chris.  He is gay, and when he was going to get "married" (way back when it just meant something to couples as a sign of personal commitment and had no blessing of the state) in Washington state, he invited DH to come.  DH went, gladly, wanting to share in his friend's happiness and show him love.  I remember when I told my parents he was going to do this--anticipating mild disapproval and disappointment, I admit--I was surprised and happy when my dad said, "Good for him."  He recognized that we show God's love to people by being in relationship with them. 

One of our pastors, Dan Kimball, said it this way in a sermon (my paraphrase): anytime a non-believer invites us into his or her life, that space is holy ground.

Anyone want to share more fodder for discussion?  Your thoughts are welcome!

The Annual Week Without Children

from someone called "Laff Away" on facebook

Strike "weekend's" and rewrite that as "week's" and now you know what I have really been up to. And actually, this year it's a week and a half!  FIL came down week before last to help DH on a project--putting a new roof on the woodshed, and turning it into a deck in the process--and he was ready to head back to Chico on Weds last week.  Well, this week is Vacation Bible School at Oma and Opa's church there in Chico, so we were already planning on taking the kids up this past weekend.  MIL suggested we just send the kids up with Opa a few days early.  Well, why not?  So the annual WWC began last Thursday morning--whoo-hoo! 

Yes, I have projects and things I have been planning to do this week--but the bonus days at the end of last week I decided to make my own personal "mental health" days.  The goal was just to do whatever would make me feel good.

--I started a long overdue cleaning job, on the new baskets I bought for the shower room that have to be meticulously brushed clean because they are starting to mold now that we're not making fires every morning. (Welcome to my world!)  But I am just doing a few baskets at a time, stopping whenever I feel like it and giving myself permission to walk away.  I've got all week. 

--I have exercised almost every day (that's a big accomplishment for me!) by dancing around the house, usually with a can of beans in each hand.  If you don't think that's exercise, think Flashdance.  That's what I've been channeling. Well, that and a little nod to the Sharks and Jets.  Every time I have ended up exhausted and sweaty--but smiling.

--I am eating so little, and feeling so much freedom in that.  I wrote last year about this revelation--that I feel like I normally spend so much of my waking thought on food, and am a little bit of a slave to my wonky blood sugar, yet find my urges for healthy foods like raw fruits and veggies thwarted by my allergies. Ptttthhhhhhbbbbb.  I am still trying to figure out what my body really needs, and then manage to make meals that are good for my body and that are fairly easy to make.  It has not been easy, and I am LOVING having days on end where I don't really need to eat--I am hungry, and that's ok.  I'm not going to be failing as a mom because of it.  I have nothing time-sensitive to accomplish, so I don't need a lot of energy.  I am hungry and it's OK.  It really is spiritually liberating for me.

--Then again, most of what I ate the end of last week was complete junk!  Bwah-ha-ha-ha!  I did errands on Thursday, and found myself driving past an excellent bakery (called The Buttery--if that tells you anything) that I normally never go by, and so I stopped in. And bought two decadent cupcakes--which served as "lunch" for the next two days, so yummy with my tea. ; ) 

--The cupcakes and tea also went really well with the Netflix movies I streamed in the middle of the day, just because I could.  And then Friday night DH and I watched the most recent Les Miserables on DVD--I know a lot of people say negative things about it, but it is still powerful and I think the casting was excellent (and have my official film theorist reasons why, which of course DH got to hear all about last night. ; ).  I also really enjoy the extra dimension lent to the final chorus of "Do You Hear The People Sing" in the movie--the visuals that suggests the line "beyond the barricades is there a world you long to see" is not only politically motivated, but spiritually.  That death itself is a barricade, and heaven is where we will one day find true, complete freedom from all that oppresses us. 

--Yes, with a quiet house and few distractions, I actually have been getting some good thinking in!  I've been working on designing different options/looks/themes for the bunks I really hope we will build this summer for the kids--and even if we don't use any of the designs, I had so much fun getting all creative!  I've been really thinking outside the box, and have been mentally playing with everything from wooden porch posts and rails to copper pipe to antique corbels to wrought iron lamp posts--yes, for structural elements for bunk beds!  Oh, the pin-worthy pictures in my head! ; )

--Oh, the luxury of a "vacation" of not cooking this past week, and eating our favorite indulgences!  We bought a Papa Murphy's gourmet vegetarian pizza, MoBo Sushi vegetarian rolls (ooooooh, I dream of these), and our favorite local Aptos Street BBQ--each of these fed DH and I for two meals.  Chipotle veggie fajitia burritos (if you ask for both kinds of beans and two kinds of salsa and all the extras, those babies are stuffed as big as they can be) were an even better deal--one burrito fed me for three meals!).  Frankly, food expense-wise, this is as cheap of a vacation as we could get. : )  And now I'm getting hungry. . . what do we want to eat for our main meal today?  Ah, this is such a treat.

--I got my hair cut.  And I splurged on a real salon, because I am tired of feeling old, and I wanted to see what a real stylist would do.  Here's the before, at the salon:

My hair had suffered a LOT of damage from my years of pulling it back into sloppy buns with elastic bands.  My advice to you--don't do it.  My poor hair really needed to be loped off to where it was healthy.  So here's the after, at home:

 

Not bad, considering this was taken the next day, after I slept on it.  (I put back on the same blouse so it would be as accurate "before and after" as possible. The "after" pic taken at the salon did not turn out.)  The third day of the haircut, after I washed it and then learned how much magic the stylist did with her conditioner and brush and blowdryer, it didn't look nearly as good.  So for church on Sunday I actually dug out the old fat curling iron I had back in my college years that's been living in a bin under the house to smooth things out nicely. . .  Not sure I will be doing that on a regular basis, so maybe I will just settle for being content with my hair no longer looking so stringy and tired as in photo #1, and who cares if it's pretty.

So that's a fairly good overview of the first half of our WWC. The second half will not be nearly as frivolous--yes, I do have some projects I did want to accomplish before the end of the week.  But it will still be fun, and I'm hoping to make the most of it!

May you all be having good weeks, whatever you are doing!