Christmas (Almost but Not) Ruined--the Homefront Version

So sorry to be such a bummer in these posts. It's almost over--while the big story of what God will do with us and through all this fallen, interpersonal mess is yet to unfold, this short little segment of the story is almost over. Because today is Thursday, tomorrow is Friday, and Saturday we are heading back up to Chico for the beginning of the big family Christmas celebration of 2014. : )  We're going up so far before Christmas because it will be Great-Grandma's 95th birthday on Sunday (woo-hoo!), and so some of DH's cousins and their kids will be there, and there will be an open-house for friends and well-wishers of Great-Grandma. Then the days leading up to Christmas cousins and their families will come and go, so I have heard, and by Christmas Eve it will just be us and Great-Grandma and DH's parents.  Our plan right now is to stay through the 26th, with the option to stay until the 27th or even the 28th if things are so fun that we can't bear to leave.

Of course, given every other week-long visit in our history of being in this family, the odds are much more likely to head in the opposite direction. So that's why we said the 26th. That and we want to be sure and get home in time to have our own little Home Christmas, which right now we have planned for the Monday after that weekend. (Coming home to a house with no food after a week away, I at least need one day to grocery shop, cook, etc. before our home celebration!)

Anyway, I wanted to write down this latest chapter of the family saga because I wanted to think through all that happened, so I could take from it what I needed to have my heart in a wise and loving place before we go back up, and then let all the rest of it go. Also, I wanted to think through it all to help me figure out What To Do About It. 

And it has helped--even if it was much more painful than I anticipated. Mainly because it took too long to write it all out, and so I felt like I was dwelling in the negative more than I had intended when I started writing. Also, I started feeling like I was bumming the rest of you who might read this out as we get closer to Christmas and we all want to be in happy places! Focusing on Good and Peace and Hope and Joy!  Not focusing on the rest-of-the-year human frailties and fallen-ness we all experience. 

Also, this has been a very painful couple of weeks because not only have I had to work through MIL things, but also things within my home and marriage--because poor DH has been working through them too.

I never wrote about this last year, although I meant to.  It was a very big heart deal at the time, but I was too wrung to write it out. I'll share the important parts now: last Spring I helped plan and carry out our first Vintage Faith women's retreat.  It was a weekend at a retreat center run by some Franciscan monks. It was a good weekend. The speaker, named Susie, was not from our church, so I was completely surprised when she shared in her first talk that she had grown up under the oppression of an emotionally and verbally abusive mother, and she focused much of her talks all weekend on all that God had done in her because of/since that.

Of course I wanted to talk to Susie after hearing her say all that, but I did not want to pounce on her either. ; )  Instead, I asked God to give me a Word through her--some wisdom I need to have for healing the relationship with MIL, or at least handling it the way God wants me to.  All through the event, the talks were good, but nothing struck me as directly meant for me.  I really felt God had something to say to me, though.  But even through the last official talk on Saturday, I still felt like I was waiting.  Sat night ended, the women were hanging out, going to bed, etc. I was puttering around putting things away from our snack table and neatening up.  Then unexpectedly at midnight, Susie walked back in the door to the meeting space--she had left her notebook and came back for it.  I did not want to try to start a conversation with her, given the lateness of the hour and how tired she must be from leading two talks that day, but I at least wanted to ask her if I could email her later on and get her feedback on some of my own MIL stuff.  I did, she said yes--and then we ended up chatting anyway, and that led to more serious discussion, and then God Spoke.

Susie had asked about my own MIL situation, and as I tried to briefly explain (keep in mind this is only a month after the Big Turning Point conversation of January, so I was still stressed and raw from all the Big Processing I was doing at that time), I found myself getting info "fight or flight" mode just standing there talking to Susie (a touch of Post Traumatic Stress coming out) and it must have been very clear to Susie. I was telling her how burdened I felt, and like the weight of it all was on me, and feeling myself getting tense and panicky, and she interrupted me and said, "You know, I don't know if this is from God or not, but I feel like I need to tell you this. This should be your husband's battle, not yours."  She said not only was this his mother and not mine, but also he is supposed to be the defender of our family, not me, and so I needed to relinquish that role to him.  As she said those things, I am totally serious--it was like a tingly wash of water poured down on me from my head down over my body.  I literally felt like a shower was pouring over me--which immediately told me this was the Word planned for me by the power of the Divine Counselor.  Of course I started crying, and as Susie kept talking with me I felt a huge weight lifting off of me.

A few minutes later, as she and I finished the deep sharing and got into some chatting again, she suddenly interrupted again to say, "I want you to know. . . my husband was not always my champion.  But I chose to believe he was, and over time he became my champion." More tears there--because of course so much of my struggle in our marriage has been because I so easily feel devalued and not cherished or protected, all things my heart of hearts secretly desires.  In regards to our relationship with my MIL, my Dear Husband does not think he or I need defending from his mom's negativity and accusations and condemnation. He grew up with it, and so is naturally inclined to keep quiet or just ignore it. I do not at all fault him for this--I understand how this has been his coping mechanism (and his dad's too), and in a way how unfair it is to expect that he would see the need to defend me, or understand how all the negativity would negatively affect how I feel about myself and how he values me (or not).

All this important God-talk happened in a matter of 20 minutes, and after Susie and I said goodnight, I walked back into the meeting room to finish straightening up. A dear woman from church named Kathy was in there also putting things away--someone who is not a close friend but with whom I have shared many deep conversations over the years, and who knows our family well.  I shared with her the two significant things that God had just shown me, and she cried with me, and then, it felt like God whispered one more thing to me: that while I had come seeking insight about healing in my relationship with MIL, God desired instead to heal my marriage.  It hit me that maybe, just maybe, all this mess with MIL was what God was going to use to grow DH and I closer together, and closer to being the people He desires us to be.

When I got home from the retreat, I shared these revelations with DH (well, the first and last ones--I didn't tell him that I don't see him as my champion, but that I would trust he would grow into it.  But at whatever point he reads this post, I guess he'll know. ; )  He listened, and he agreed that it seemed like something God would say. So, from then on, I have tried to keep healthy and strong with those good expectations for my interactions with MIL, but I have also tried to defer to DH when possible, and have tried to not feel like I'm taking back on the burden of the relationship's health.

And I think God has been doing his Good work in us, subtly.  During the big discussion of Christmas Ruined Forever when we were in Chico for Thanksgiving, DH was very much an active part of the conversation with his mom, and at one point when she and I reached a stalemate, I looked over at him and asked, "Well, do you have any words of wisdom for us?"  And then he directed the conversation to the bigger picture.  The point is that we were having the conversation together with his mom, and that hopefully he felt respected by me during it. Those are little things, but its going to be a lot of little things like that, that slowly move us closer together.

Then after Thanksgiving, DH and I had to talk through all that happened, and process together. Because of all of the accusations directed at me personally for hijacking gift selection and giving, I asked DH to oversee the kids' wish list making, and also do all the correspondence with his mom about gifts.  So the last day when we were in Chico and MIL told the kids to write down what they wanted for Christmas, I purposefully stayed in the other room and did not go near the kids or the table so there could be no question of my interference. 

And then when his mom started emailing after we were home from Thanksgiving, continuing the talk about Christmas Ruined Forever, DH took over that correspondence.  He wrote his mom an email--but it was more than that, it was like his first Letter to her, the kind I have been occasionally writing to MIL when there seems to be need.  It took him three nights of writing--the first night until 3 am, the second night until 6 am, and then the third night until 3 am again. It was only a page long, but he is extremely thoughtful and purposeful when he writes, and writing does not come naturally to him, and so that piece of correspondence was clearly infused with his blood & sweat.  He did such a good job too, addressing MIL's feelings, but then directing the conversation to the bigger picture again.

So, it has been really good to feel like the big issues this Christmas season are not falling on me alone.  Is that selfish? I'm sure. But yet, it also feels right. I feel very badly for all that DH is bearing this year, and have tried to share in it as appropriate, and have still felt the emotional/psychological weight of it all too--but for once not the weight of responsibility. Still, it has been very hard for both of us, and last week the constant nights of too little sleep and too much stress overtook us, and things between us hit bottom.  It just all became too much. We couldn't even talk to each other, and were seeking solitary escapes.

At one point, I got really angry with my MIL, in my heart. Because all of her drama of Christmas Ruined Forever, and us trying to restore relationship, or at least not do anything blameworthy this Christmas, started to make me feel like we were in danger of ruining our Christmas.

But a few days ago DH and I started to come out from under it, and started seeking restoration of relationship, in our own little ways.  And then night before last we finally had a really good, very necessary talk about all this stuff and how it affects us, and it ended well. But the stress is very subtly rising, and it does not feel like we are strong enough to handle this well.  Even as I type now, the evening has not gone as planned, and DH and I are feeling ourselves moving slightly more apart again, just when we need to feel closest.

So, friends and loved ones--those of you who are still here and are thus part of my private therapy group ; )--I would so appreciate your prayers. Would you please pray for our hearts--for compassion for MIL and also for our unity as a married couple?  Would you please pray that we would be completely free from fear, and therefore be freed from making any decisions about our stay in Chico based upon fear? Would you please pray for the Holy Spirit to lead us and be manifest during our time with extended family? Would you please pray that we would all be able to let go of all these sins that so easily entangle us, and be free to fully celebrate Jesus, and our love for one another in His name? 

Thank you so much.

Thank you too for the kind comments some of you have left either to previous posts or in emails. I really do appreciate the feedback, even if I'm not taking the time to formulate responses at the moment, and if you have any words of wisdom for me as we head into this next week, I will be glad to read them.  Some of you have asked specific questions, and I'll try to respond to those later--if I get any more chances to blog!

Much love to you all!

Christmas From Then Til Now

It was really interesting, and not a little bit sad to go back and find the posts I have made on this blog over the years about our Christmases with DH's parents.  After that one fateful Christmas in 2004, we would be reminded every so often of our Rejection of The Gifts, etc. But it was 2009 when MIL first declared that Christmas had been officially Ruined Forever because of our past hurtful behavior (interestingly, at the 5 year anniversary mark of the fateful year). And since then basically the holidays are a hard time for MIL, and therefore for the rest of us too.

Don't get me wrong--we have had good times at Christmas too. Often MIL would bring up the past hurts right before Christmas, and then I would ask her if we could defer the conversation until after Christmas, and she would, and we would have a nice holiday together (not without tension, but without major conflict).  Then we would never really talk about it again until she brought it up again at the next Christmas. One year I wrote letters to her in response, which I hoped would help us work through it--and actually, that turned out to be a fine year, at least according to my record in this blog. ; )  I re-read just now that a lot of you were praying for us too--thank you so much, and anyone who feels led to pray again this year please do!

When I started writing this post, I think it was good for me to remember that, and to go back and read this post which I originally wrote in response to MIL's first declaration of Christmas Ruined Forever.  The way things are going so far this year, it is good to remember what is true even now.

Some Truth:

--We have never purposefully tried to make MIL mad or hurt.

--MIL is going to feel the way she is going to feel, and we are ultimately not responsible for that.

--It is wrong for things to be more important than people.  MIL would completely agree with this, and argue that when we rejected her gifts and therefore rejected her, we were making things more important than her. There is some truth to this, for which I am sorry. But now we have the ongoing problem of those past things and now every year's new things adding to the burden of resentment--because it seems that every Christmas gift MIL gives us is tainted in her mind by how we have rejected her in the past, and how we don't deserve any gifts from her in the future. (That last is true too--DH and I don't deserve gifts from her, and at this point I really wish she would not get us any.)

--We are responsible for our actions being unloving and unwise that one Fateful Christmas. We did probably ruin that particular Christmas for MIL, by our misunderstandings, ignorance, naivety, and selfishness. OK, so we were jerks. But we didn't do it on purpose.  It was all on accident.

--MIL is responsible for her decision to hold onto the bad feelings and not forgive us. In fact, who is more responsible at this point for ten years worth of ruined Christmases?  We acted that first year accidentally, without intent to harm. MIL has acted the past 9 years purposefully, seemingly with intent to harm.

--The only thing we can do at this point to make things right is apologize. Again.  There is nothing else we can do.
 
.   .   .   .   .   .   .

So, a few weeks back, while we were in Chico for Thanksgiving, I'm the one who accidentally opened the big old can of worms. It was really funny to look back and realize I had inadvertently asked for it. Because it was the night before our last day there, and we had not finalized our Christmas plans with them, so I urged DH to initiate conversation with his parents about when we would be coming up to visit for Christmas, etc. We thought it would be loving, to show them we were looking forward to being with them again, and for that special holiday. But somehow, a few minutes into the conversation, MIL turned the conversation towards gift giving, and then announced again that buying presents is torture for her because of our past rejections, so I should just put the items we want into an amazon cart and she would pay for them.

Startled, I immediately said, "Um, no, I'm not going to do that."
MIL countered, "Why not?"
I said, "Well, that didn't turn out well last year."
MIL challenged, "What do you mean?"
And then DH and I just looked at each other helplessly, me thinking, "Is she really wanting to go there?!"

I'm not sure I mentioned this before. But see, last year before Christmas MIL asked for wish lists, but she was going to be visiting her daughter in CO and so didn't have much time to shop. So she told me to just look for things on amazon.com.  I had the idea of setting up a Christmas wish list there, so that MIL could do her "shopping" from CO at her leisure and have the presents sent directly to our house.  But instead what happened was this: I put too many things on the list, trying to give MIL options she could choose from for the kids, but then I think MIL thought I was being greedy, and then she bought almost all of the things!  Also, she and I were emailing back and forth talking about the gifts and I thought this was a positive thing--that we were communicating well, and shopping "together," even if virtually. But then when the lists were made, MIL abruptly said she didn't have time for looking through the list and since it was so sad for her to buy presents for us because of The Year We Forever Ruined Christmas, she just wanted me to put the things into her amazon cart and she would pay for them.  Ugh!  No, I could not do it!  It was like MIL forcing me to treat her like the cash cow she was accusing us of treating her as. As if all I want MIL for is stuff, and this is how we would prove it.  Uh-uh!  But then I was in the horribly awkward position of either telling her a) we don't need any of this stuff anyway, and I only made this list because you asked me to--which of course sounds completely ungrateful and would wound her even more, since she really wants to be appreciated; OR b) say something affirming and appreciative and put aside my own wounded pride at being wrongfully accused of being greedy and using MIL to get what we want.  I tried to do the latter, of course.

But overall that attempt at MIL and I bridging the gift gap with a shared online wish list--disaster. So when she told me this past Thanksgiving to just do that again--did she really think that worked out well the year before, after the negative things she had said to me in emails about how much it hurt her? Had she forgotten the things she said?  So instead of directly answering, we just tried to turn the conversation to positive directions about our gift giving in general, and options for this Christmas specifically.

But all our efforts really didn't work. When we suggested the kids make wish lists for "Oma" instead, like they have before, MIL said that didn't work because I oppress my children so they don't know how to think for themselves or are too afraid to say what they really think/want. Also, she believes that in past years I masterminded the lists so that the children only asked for the things I allowed them to ask for, and not what they really wanted. (I'm pretty sure she is remembering the year two of the girls asked Oma for undershirts for Christmas. Their idea, not mine! But she never will believe me. ; )

Oh, and she is right, by the way--Oma's no dummy. And neither am I.  Of course I always help shape the kids' wish lists to Oma.  Because of course otherwise they put things on their lists like "a puppy" and "a big cozy chair just for me" (oh yes--both of these were suggestions for Christmas wish lists in years past ; ) or other things that are inappropriate, but which Oma and Opa might be tempted to get them anyway. Or not get, but then give DH and I grief about--because we are such bad parents and are breaking our kids' hearts because we live in such a tiny dump and we can't provide for our kids the things they "need" like their very own cozy chair!

(You think I'm exaggerating. But no, this is the kind of grief we get a lot. For example, since last January we've heard how we have broken our kids' hearts because they don't have beds of their own yet. No, we haven't done more on the bed project. No, I'm pretty sure our kids are not heartbroken over it.)

So, guiding the creation of gift wish lists in the past is something I openly confess to doing. But of course I always make sure the things that end up on the list are things the kids really do want, that were their own ideas.

But back to that night's conversation. If MIL did not like the kids making wish lists because she felt I was orchestrating them, I suggested she just talk directly to the kids and ask them what they wanted. But then she argued that that wouldn't work because they never say what they really want. In fact, when MIL asks the kids what they want, the first thing they do is look at me, and that annoys her to no end. She thinks they are afraid of saying what they want in front of me, or are so oppressed by their mother that they don't know how to speak their own thoughts openly.

Really, the truth is this: my kids think I give them good gifts.  Which just means like every mom I listen to the things they say they want throughout the year, and then I try to make those things happen. I also know my kids well, and so usually guess well at what they will like.  Merry said the sweetest thing to me just the other day--she said, "Mommy, you always give me the perfect gifts!  It's like I didn't even know they were exactly what I wanted until I open them!" : )  (I'm pretty sure I've also mentioned that my kids are the best gift receivers ever--so easy to please!) So when my children look at me when Oma asks them for their ideas, they do so because they know I'll help them come up with good ideas.  It's a good thing, not a bad thing.

Ok, that's enough about the wish lists. I told you all that for two reasons:

1) it was the perfect example of how I am "damned if I do" help Oma come up with good gifts for the kids, and "damned if I don't."  I really cannot win, and there is nothing I can do to make MIL happy with me.  It's like I exist only to be the bad guy--the one who is keeping the kids from getting what they want, or keeping MIL from enjoying giving gifts, or making the process of gift selection unpleasant or difficult, etc. So my urge is to remove myself from the conversation entirely.

2) it's a good example of how MIL will choose to take good things and twist them around so that they are bad.

And the whole, painful, over an hour-long conversation just went downhill from there.

But here's the gist:

I did not comport myself ideally, such as when MIL accused me of all kinds of things over and over, and I got pretty indignant and was raising my voice telling her she may not call me a liar and say untrue things about me, and she told me I could not tell her what to do, and not to shout at her. I wasn't shouting--but I was not putting up with any crap at that moment either. That was the weak point in the "discussion" on my part, when I was letting go of my cool--not angry, just passionate. But still not collected. But overall I tried to be gracious but was firm in reminding her that we are not responsible for her feelings, and Christmas is not about us. It's about Jesus, not us!  We can't ruin Christmas because it is not about us! And I asked for her forgiveness one last time. She rejected it, and so I asked her why she wants to stay mad at me. She was uncomfortable with that and then turned the conversation to attack DH about some way that he was failing his kids (probably the beds again, since after all that's all they really want and we can't even provide that for them, hence the breaking of little hearts). After a brief defense of DH, just to remind her of some more truths in that area, I excused myself to bed, because I could see the conversation was going nowhere productive or helpful.

But here's possibly the most significant part of the whole thing: before I went upstairs, I went to FIL who had been sitting nearby listening for most of this whole discussion.  I told him that I was truly sorry for the misunderstandings of the past and whatever hurt we have caused and we really do care about their feelings and trust we can resolve it all together at some point. He thanked me, and said he thought some of the things said tonight were long needing said, and some good may come out of it.

It hit me a few minutes later, as I was upstairs thinking through all that had just occurred while I got ready for bed: this was possibly the first time FIL had ever witnessed this kind of dialogue between MIL and me, where I am taking a firm stance against some things but trying to seek restoration of relationship overall.  I keep forgetting that he might know nothing of the things I have said to Rita over the years about all this conflict, either in conversations or in letter, so perhaps he thinks this is my first time apologizing. And he thinks that apology is long overdue. (oh, how my pride rears angrily at that thought--sigh.) Or maybe he was just affirming that we need to talk this out so we can work it out--again, because perhaps he does not realize MIL and I have been talking about it for years. Or maybe he even agreed with some of the things I said to Rita, about honoring God with our relationship, forgiveness, etc. (again, things I've said to her but maybe he has never heard). But whatever--at least I believe at this point in time that FIL understands my intentions.

And maybe him & DH overhearing most of our discussion was good, for reasons I don't even know. Such as accountability--maybe FIL can help MIL process some of this now, or help urge her to forgive.  And DH really took a lead role in the discussion too, which might bode well for the future. I don't know.

I do think the conversation needed to happen, and so am overall glad it did. Even if nothing new was said, it is good to address all these feelings and thoughts before we head into the Christmas and more gift-giving together. Also, I am going to be hopeful that MIL is starting to experience some healing, and this might even be part of it. Because MIL was oddly much more calm even when angry this time than she usually is when we talk about such things.  That and the discussion had ebb and flow, instead of just being a furious tirade.  

DH and his mom argued and discussed for a while longer, and I lay in bed upstairs hearing the rise and fall of their voices. The next day was Sunday, so lots to do with getting ready for church, and then having lunch, and then packing up the car to leave (which is mostly my job--one I have always willingly taken on since the last day is usually when negative hits most, so its nice to be elsewhere and busy in a way MIL approves of). So we managed to get through the day without a return to negativity, but it was clearly hanging over us.

I forgot to mention that Thanksgiving day, the day we arrived, was a pleasure. MIL was so gracious, so generous, so fun. She welcomed my help in the kitchen and was not at all irritable at me not doing things just right.  So it was a shame that things had to end poorly--and yet, that is usually the pattern of when we visit them.  This particular visit just had extremes--an extremely good Thanksgiving day, and an extremely noteworthy confrontation, and then an extremely uncomfortable last day.  I wish it was easier for me all to focus on the extremely good!

Me & MIL--Starting a Dialogue. Of sorts.

Click to enlarge

MIL posted this to facebook the other day, and I could not resist.  (DH gave his blessing before I hit post on my comment.)

tee hee!

MIL did not post this aimed at us--in fact, I bet she does not realize that this meme really does sum up the message she has been sending us since we have been married.  This is just the way MIL views most people. So while I was teasing when I posted my comment, I hope in a way I am also sending a message--that we can talk or even joke openly about our differences of opinion, and not have to let that come between us.  She is welcome to have that opinion of us--but we are also welcome to dismiss it. Hopefully with grace. But at least with a good dose of humor and perspective.

I am continuing to use facebook as a gauge of where MIL and I are, interpersonally. I am "liking" and making positive comments to her posts when I can, and she made a positive comment to a video I shared for her of the kids singing at Easter (like a good grandma. : )  Other than that, she has completely frozen me out--she does not comment or "like" anything I post, even cute quips of things the kids say, or photographs of their artistic creations. I think that is telling--that at least there are still hurt feelings, or a desire to hurt my feelings. I'm not worried. We hopefully have a long relationship ahead of us, and plenty of time to work these things out.

I am a little teensy tiny bit worried about the next few weeks, though--FIL has expressed to DH that he would like to come down and bring us firewood and help out some weekend this month, and we don't know if that means with or without MIL. I am really praying it means without--because being at our house, surrounded by our problems & flaws is really hard on her.  And we are making plans to go up to see them at the end of the month, because DH's sister Auntie N and her husband Uncle S and their two girls Spice & Sweetness will be visiting out from CO.  We are really looking forward to seeing them, so will plan on going up for about 5 days.  I think that will be the ideal way to see MIL again for the first time since The Letter of Confrontation--on her turf, where she is in control, and where there are other people around to make lots of distracting merriment. I'm actually not stressed at all thinking about it, and can even look forward to it.

(Although now that I think about it, we have not been officially invited. Hmmmm. That's ok--we'll invite ourselves. ; )

But I'm going to have to let go of this idea that I can control when we see them next, where, etc. Because really it means I am trying to control the outcome--trying to arrange things as best I can to avoid conflict!  I need to turn this all over the God, and give it to Him, fully.  And then not be afraid of the potential conflict--and remember that just like we can hold different opinions and express them to one another, we are also free from the burden of the other person's expectations and judgments. Both she and I are free from whatever negativity the other is still holding on to.

The truth is,

EVERYTHING HAPPENS

FOR A REASON.

AND SOMETIMES THE

REASON IS THAT

WE'RE ALL IMPERFECT

AND JUST DOING THE BEST WE CAN.

: )

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.

Mashup of all things last weekend

I can't believe it is Friday again.  Oh, how this summer is flying by!  This week flew by particularly quickly, and so I'm just now finishing the post I started last Monday.  It's a jumble of weather, work, worries and whatnot--all the things that were part of last weekend, when my in-laws visited again.  And it's full of mental processing of what I'm learning through it all.  In other words, you have been warned. ; )

Overall the weekend went well.  The weather started out terribly and Saturday morning at the outdoor martial arts promotion the temp was in the upper 50's/lower 60's and we were shivering under fog so moisture-laden it was spitting tiny droplets.  But after a few hours, the sun burned through and the day turned beautiful--and we all got a little sunburned. Sigh.  I mention these little incidences because weather is one of those things certain people always complain about when they come visit us, as if cold fog in summer is the result of our foolish home-buying decisions, and visible signs of too much sun is a poor reflection on my ability to make wise choices for the well-being of my children.  But actually, MIL started out the weekend very well regulated, so that even the terrible weather and mild sunburns did not lead to painful conversations.  In fact, MIL was very patient and gracious with everything on Saturday, and--interpersonally speaking--we had a lovely day, all day! 

The three girls before the official event started. 

Each new black belt is escorted down to the front by a higher-ranking belt.

 

Sunny was escorted by a young man who also leads classes, and is one of her favorite instructors.

Receiving the new belt from Master Jin, the man who brought Ho Kuk Mu Sul (Korean Mixed Martial Arts) to the States.

Congratulations to the new first degree black belts!

Sunny with her two favorite instructors.

Sunny did well with her part in the black belt demonstrations, performing her sword form and leaping off of other people to break boards with kicks.  Tough little girls are so cute, and we are very proud of her.   Merry is one step behind her older sister, and will likely earn her black belt at the Winter promotions.  And then Happy is already one step behind that, so will earn hers sometime in the next couple of years.  Smiley will start martial arts sometime this next year, since he will be in kindergarten!  I can't believe it--my little guy getting so big.

random cute photo of Smiley, since we did not get any of him this past weekend. This was taken at Easter up at my in-laws'

So that was Saturday.  Sunday we went to church and it was another gorgeous day, so afterwards we went out to a restaurant on the Santa Cruz wharf and then lounged on the beach for a few minutes and then headed the scenic route home, driving as much as possible along the coast to enjoy the ocean views.  But by the time we arrived back home, when most of the afternoon was gone, MIL was starting to lose her patience.  You see, she is always conflicted when they visit us--in her mind, how can we "goof off" when there is so much work needing to  be done around our house and property?  So what we see as positive, good and even necessary family relaxation time, she sees as a waste of time.  And that starts to make her anxious, and then negative.   So MIL was a trooper on Saturday, not complaining about how we were "wasting" time, even when we lingered after the promotion event was over to play at the playground and explore a nearby creek.  But then Sunday, after we had "wasted" that whole day too, it was just too much, and after dinner when the kids were in bed and the grownups were chatting in the living room, things got negative. 

I can really understand MIL's frustration.  DH and I bought this little shack house with the intentions of fixing it up and even adding on.  In fact, we jumped right into the improvements as soon as it was officially ours, and in the first few weeks made it so much more attractive and livable.  But when we started looking into the bigger projects, and realized how expensive it is to do any remodeling in this county because of the required permits and reports, and how much of a headache it will all be because nothing about our house currently meets code, we lost momentum.  For example, permission to replace ONE interior window without enlarging or otherwise altering the wall opening is several hundred dollars, and we would be required to bring the entire wall of that window up to code, which would mean architect drawings for new framing, retroactive permits for the electrical outlets that DH and FIL have been replacing, and who knows what else.  So, suddenly replacing one window ends up costing thousands of dollars, even if we are doing the work ourselves.  (It is cheaper to install a lot of windows at once, because you can add additional windows on to the first permit for a lot less money, but that is completely unfeasible for us, given the requirement to bring the window walls up to code--essentially, that would mean rebuilding our whole little house!)  It makes me so mad, because it is clear the overzealous rules favor new construction and big budgets, and are elitist at their core.

Ok, rant over.  But I'm sure you can imagine how frustration and financial limitations could lead to despondency, and then to apathy, which is where I think my Dear Husband has remained for several years now.  We started out well after buying the house, but there was so much to do, and then that good home-improvement momentum failed, and now it has been quite a while since DH's parents have seen any real improvements to the property, and pretty much anywhere you look around the house and yard there are numerous half-completed projects, problems and eyesores begging for attention, which we seem to have just forgotten about or have resigned ourselves to live with as-is.  Like the falling-over front fence.  The gaping hole around the fireplace where the soapstone surround will be someday.  The cracked bathroom sink without a working "cold" tap.  The shoplight clamped to a curtain rod in the bedroom in lieu of a hardwired fixture.  These things we have been fine living with on temporary basis--but when temporary becomes seemingly permanent. . . it is really easy to understand why MIL has a hard time visiting without becoming upset by her surroundings.  She and FIL are can-do, hands-on people, and let me tell you, it is just about killing her that she can't do what she wants with us, and with our space, when she so desperately feels she and FIL can't keep their hands off our projects, if any of them will ever get done.

But what she forgets is that they are our projects.  And that whatever her feelings are, and however strong her desire for resolution, they actually don't matter.  She is psychologically investing herself into things that are not really her concern, and over which she really has no control.  But she has a hard time separating herself, because of course she wants the best for her kids and grandkids--which would be the opposite of what this house is--and because she believes that she and FIL are the only ones who can make the positive changes the house needs.

OK, now this is fascinating for me to be writing, because none of this is what I set out to write.  I was not going to talk about our house and projects at all, but instead the interpersonal aspects of the visit and what God is showing me through them.  But I have just realized that so much of what I just said about MIL directly translates to where I was really going.  Let's see if I can make these connections the least bit coherent. . . .

The bottom line is that we had some really good things happening interpersonally this weekend, but also some returning to old ways of relating, and old stresses.  And my MIL did a good job of letting go of some things, and being patient, and overlooking a lot. . . but then could only go so far.  Still, good for her, and thank you God! 

I think this might be the first weekend where I want to give MIL more credit for keeping the peace than I give myself.  While she did a good job Saturday of letting go of a lot, I had a harder time.  As you might have guessed from my last post before the weekend, I was doing my best to have a good attitude and expect the best of our time with family--and yet was fearful of the less-than-best.  I confess that I was anticipating negativity, and so when it did come, even if briefly, I let myself catch and dwell on it, which of course just made me all the more vulnerable to the next little bit of negativity.  In other words, I was dwelling in a too-weak heart place, and ended up being part of the problem and not the solution.  I can't be too hard on myself about this, as I know I have a bit of PTSD lingering from the worst years of our relationship and it makes me prone to fear and self-protectiveness, but I'm still disappointed.  I know in my head that God is the only One who can actually make things good, who will release me from fear, who will protect me and fill me with all the strength and love I need at any moment to do the hard work of loving fully--but I too easily slip back into that place of interpersonal cowering, distrusting, hiding.

Must remind myself--and that is ok too.  His strength is made perfect in my weakness.  And when I see how my own self-protective instincts don't actually help or  heal anything, I realize all the more how much I need Him. 

So there were a couple of moments Saturday that I allowed little bits of negativity to get to me, and I ended up disheartened and momentarily very upset, even if overall the day went well.  At the time I just tried to pretend on the outside that all was fine, but inside I was in quite a storm.  The one incident I will share with you--because it was the catalyst for God speaking to me--was really quite silly.  For the potluck after the black belt promotions, I had brought our own dishware, utensils, napkins and cups.  It just seemed wise, since there would be a chance that those assigned to bring such things would not bring enough, and I am also moving our family as much as possible towards consuming less plastic, especially single-use plastic like disposable forks and cups.  Well, everyone accepted the plates and cutlery I handed out without comment, but when it came to the cup, well, MIL just put her foot down.  She had no reason to refuse, since I had plenty of cups for everyone, and would have to wash her unused cup anyway when we got home just because it had been carried with the dirty things on the way home.  But she actually turned down the clean cup I was holding out for her, and instead went and got a disposable cup provided by someone else, a cup that then would just go in the trash.  I know she was just taking a stance against what she thinks is an extreme, insidious, liberal Environmentalism that poses as Good Stewardship.  But let's admit, it was also purposefully taking a stance against me personally.  It felt like an insult, like a rejection, just so illogical and purposeful that it made me boil. 

That was the last in a series of small negative flare-ups that morning, and was like the straw that broke the camel's back.  I tried not to show my annoyance, but I am sure MIL was watching for it, and likely picked up a hint.  Those of you who know me IRL will agree that I am pretty much an open book.  So maybe she felt she needed that small victory over me, I don't know--and maybe it helped her be more regulated and gracious the rest of the day.  All I know is that at that moment it made me so indignant I had a hard time getting over it.  But after we left the picnic area and were loading things into the car, I spewed a little of my hurt and anger to my Dear Husband--and as I spoke, I realized the Holy Spirit was nudging me to listen to myself.  And as I did so, I realized I was internalizing my MIL's choice and making it all about me.  Talk about narcissism--and self-defeating foolishness.  Why did MIL's choice to use the disposable cup have anything to do with me?  I was somehow allowing it to define me, when of course the only person it says anything about is MIL. 

Ahhhh, this seems so simple, and yet seems to be such a struggle for me, and in an instant I knew this was key to another struggle I've been asking God for insight into--my parenting.  The two interpersonal issues are intertwined, and now I just need to understand in fullness how, to then better resolve both issues.

The revelation is two-fold:
a) I am too thinned-skinned, so I take in and make part of me whatever negativity I encounter. I absorb rather than deflect.

b) I react rather than respond to interpersonal conflict.  This means I have strong knee-jerk reactions to negativity, quite possibly from a self-protective instinct.

You can see how those two things are related--how they stem from the same place in me, and how they would apply to all kinds of interpersonal relationships.  My parents will be nodding at the first one--my Mother is not one to criticize her children, but she has always told me that I am too sensitive, since I was a kid.  And I have known the second one for a couple of year now in regards to my parenting--but knowing a truth about myself is different than understanding it's full ramifications, and knowing what to do about it.   But I have never before considered how the two are connected--and now with this revelation I feel I am that much closer to freedom from the tyranny of the negative in these two facets of my life! 

Let me just remind everyone reading this--my kids are healthy, normal kids.  Likely much better behaved than many.  So what I have struggled with in my parenting of them is not what they do wrong, but how much of a hard time I have responding to it with grace instead of legalism (b), and how hard it is for me not to take their "failures" to heart as a sign of how I am failing them as a mother (a).

And now here is where the processing comes around to MIL and her unhappiness with our house, and how she is allowing herself to suffer psychologically from her lack of control over us and our house, and how our relationship suffers from her desire for complete control over us and our house.  Just swap out "me" for "MIL" and "my children and their choices" for "us and our house" and you can clearly see the parallel. 

This is not the first time I have realized just how similar my MIL and I are. 

Neither is it the first time I have learned something about myself or my parenting from my relationship with my MIL.

*Now looking over what I've written I wonder--do both a) and b) apply to my MIL as well?  Are these the same things she is doing?!  Are her verbal lashings-out her own self-protective attempts to deflect what she feels is a painful challenge to her own Selfhood?

I am just so thankful that God keeps whispering to me, that He keeps giving me ears to hear and eyes to see.   I hope He will continue to grow and shape me to be the daughter-in-law and parent that He wants me to be.

But now. . . I am still processing those two important ideas.  Since they are still new, I don't really know the fullness of how they are connected and what they ultimately mean.  But I see that understanding whatever is at the heart of those two issues will be the key to building better and stronger relationships with my children and my MIL.  And probably my Dear Husband too!  I have an inkling that the ideas are related to my earlier ponderings on the idea of my identity as Blessed, as a creature defined solely by who I am in Jesus. . . but I don't have the time or brainpower to go there yet.  I need to let the first ideas settle into me, and figure out what to do with them--then I can delve further. 

So there you have it--my imperfectly reasoned, but hopefully clearly-enough articulated thoughts for this week.  I would love to hear your thoughts, if you see some connection I have not yet mentioned, or if you have experience with any of these concepts from your own life!

And in the meantime, I hope you all have long and love-filled weekends, however you will be spending them.

Blessed, the rest of the story

OK, I promise I will end this overly long story with this post.  I never meant for it to go so long, but I must say, it has been so good for my heart to write it out.  Writing is not only cathardic, but also forces me sort out ideas fully, to really think about what I think.  So, thanks for humoring me.  I hope maybe one of you got to thinking about your own relationship with God, what you mean to him, what He calls you. 

So last post I was saying that just when I started thinking about how "Blessed" did not say much about me, but was really all about God, our church started a series on the Sermon on the Mount.  They are planning on doing this series until Easter--I love how deeply they plan on going!  So for over a month now they have been dealing with just the Beatitudes, and it has been really good to think through.

The idea that I heard in one of the first messages was that "blessed" meant "happy."

Hmmmmm.  In the whole "how does Blessed reflect me and not just God" aspect, that was not very helpful.  When I think of Happy, I think--of course--of my sweet and cheerful now seven-year-old.  I don't think of myself as Happy.  I mean, I think overall I am a pretty positive person, and am overall happy with my life, but somehow that word suggests lightheartedness, even frivolity.  And those are not really me.  I think culturally we have lost connection with the word "happy" and don't know what to do with it.

So I sat with that idea of "blessed = happy = me?" for a week, until the next Sunday's message.  And then, the idea of "happy" was redefined in a way that not only gave so much more meaning to the passage, but also totally filled my heart with joy:

 

(I don't know who uploaded this image to facebook the day of that sermon, but I was so glad to see it!)

THAT is me.  Or, I should say, that is who I long to be, but believe I am in the process of becoming.  This is a meaning of Blessed that I can claim, and suddenly it feels right, it feels personal, it feels like God once again whispering to me, gently, affectionately. 

And even now, writing this final chapter, I am seeing the Truth of that name so much more clearly.

Because who I am in my innermost Self is not separatable from God's love for me, from who I am in relationship with Jesus.  My true identity is in Christ.  WHY do I forget that over and over?  How the Deceiver must chortle at every time he sees me living out the opposite.  Because forgetting that I am approved, loved, and completely accepted by God is forgetting who I really am.  Even in my sinfulness, even in my failures, even in my insecurity--I am right at this moment in a right relationship with God, because I claim him as he claims me.  The relationship does not depend upon my getting things right or being perfect--it depends only upon the choice to accept God's divine love, to revel in the knowledge of that love, to live out my life always within the Truth of that love.

[crying, now. you knew it was coming.]

Blessed = contented in belonging to Christ = me

And that feels like it reflects the innermost me the way I always wished a special name would.  So I am sure my understanding of this idea will continue to deepen, over the course of my life but even just through this sermon series, but for the moment, I feel like once again I am settled comfortably in the Truth of who I am, and it feels good.


May you all be having a great and BLESSED weekend! 

My Sunny and Merry and Happy girls, reading the Beatitudes during the service last week. : )

Blessed, Pt. 3

My mother sent me an email this past week which started, "Dear Bubbles, . . . ."  Totally made me laugh!  I did not mean to leave you all hanging for so long for the rest of the story, and unintentionally give the story a build-up it does not deserve.  But I finally have a good chunk of time in which to blog while my brain is fresh, and if this seems anti-climactic, perhaps it is because I have not yet reached the zenith of meaning for my chosen moniker.

So, as I was telling you in that last post, I always wanted a special name, that would (in my mind, and hopefully in others' minds as well) acknowledge what I felt was my true inner me.  Of course, I didn't even know who my true inner me was, but I think I wished that someone would love me enough to look for and see me--the innermost me--clearly, and who would give me a nickname--re-name me--out of that purposefully loving seeing.   It was interesting re-reading that last post and noticing the movement in my story from wanting a nickname to project something about me that I wished was true, but knew was not (being cute, popular, fun) to wishing I had a nickname that would uncover something about me that I wanted to believe was really true. In the first, I wanted a new name to make a new me--because of course it was not really my name I didn't fully like, it was myself I didn't fully like.  (What 13-year-old fully likes herself?) But as time progressed, I wanted a new name not to somehow artificially raise myself in other people's eyes, but to validate myself in my own eyes.  In both cases I wanted to feel that there was something valuable in me worth calling out by (nick)name.  But when I was young, I didn't think there was much of value already in me, so a nickname would add value, because other people's perceptions of me as cute, popular, fun would make it true.   Such a nickname would give me value.  When I was in college and after marriage, I needed to believe there was value already in me, and hoped a nickname would reveal it, to me and to others.

It is also interesting to see the shift in my mind from staunchly determining a "true" nickname would come "organically" from outside of myself--that if I named myself it would be invalid, a "false" nickname (at the very least, pretentious)--to going ahead and naming myself because I was resigned to the fact that nobody else was ever going to (i.e. no one saw the "real" me, and was thusly moved by affection for that inner me to want to claim her for themselves with a special name.)

Ooooooh, the revelations in my mind when I blog!  Because what I just wrote is so true--I wanted to be know fully, to be loved fully, and to be claimed.  A nickname claims someone in a very personal way--it's saying to the other person, or to the world, "There's something more to this one, and I like it, and I'm making it mine."  This is mainly true of endearments, but can be true of more public nicknames too.

OK, so there's the reflection--on to the conclusion of the story.

Sometime soon after we moved to California, so about 10 years ago, I found myself needing a new email address. Which is, in a way, a new identity. DH and I loathe changing email addresses, and so we set up these new accounts with this company called "Google" which was gaining in popularity and which we thought might be around for a while. ; ) But I had to pick a new "name" for this email address. . . and I don't remember exactly what I had been reading, but through some Bible study or other reading I had decided that God saw me as "blessed" and so I was going to claim that.  I didn't really know what it meant, but I knew it was all over the Scriptures, and it reminded me of "Beloved," except was not as intimate, not as precious.  Remember, I no longer wanted a name that would project what I wished was true about me, so since I did not believe I was "beloved" to anybody, I certainly would never claim that moniker.  "Blessed" (blESSed in pronunciation) sounded pretty, had vague Godly-woman connotations, and didn't seem to claim anything false about me.  So, I used it as the basis for my email address.  And later, I used it as my identity for this blog.  In both cases, I did so just because I hadn't come up with anything better.

And it is so interesting to see how this name, which I chose for myself in a very casual manner (usually, as you all know, I over-analyze EVERYTHING, but this name "Blessed" I did not think about too much--it just seemed like a fine idea, and there was nothing offensive about it, so why not) has gradually, over years of growing in relationship with God, become something much more special to me.  I felt myself growing into it, heart-wise.  Believing it really did say something about me, in my inner-most being.  And also believing that it was a nickname I did not give myself, but which God gave me.  I can't tell you how that happened, because it was as subtle of a process as the very realization of my faith in the first place--I wore the designation "Christian" for a long time before I realized, this is really my faith!  Not just what was passed down to me by my parents!  It is who am I am to the core, and I cannot separate it from who I am!  Becoming Blessed was the same way--just over time that word, that name, that meaning resonated in my spirit, and at low times God would whisper to me through it to comfort me and restore me.  And at some point along the way, I realized I was, am, truly Blessed.

FINALLY, I have a nickname, and it is everything I longed for it to be!

Well, kinda.  The word "blessed" always seemed to me to speak truth about my life, about my circumstances, about what God does in providing for me.  I am Blessed because of these children, this husband, this house, how well God provides for me, how he knows my deepest desires and responds to them.  I am Blessed because the Lord of Lords loves me and holds me fast, and listens to me and gives so generously to me out of the bounty of His love.  I am blessed because the Creator of the Universe cares about me, my hurts, my yearnings, my fears, my joys, and He is forever faithful in responding to them.

So you see, being Blessed actually seems to say so much more about God than it does about me.

This realization hit me a few weeks back, during one of our fabulous SoulKitchen "Conversations," when the speaker for that evening asked the women there to define themselves with one word.  Well, of course you know what word came to mind--Blessed.  But in the context of that night's discussion, I realized that while I love being Blessed, I have not felt like the name really says anything about me.  Well, other than suggesting a spirit of optimism, of gratitude, of acknowledging that everything wonderful in my life has come directly from the hands of a loving Father in heaven.  And I do think those are all true!  But I thought that just spoke to my outer self, the one people see--not the real me inside.  And, frankly, we are all "blessed" in different ways--so that does not make the name feel as personal, speaking to something special just in me.

So I started to ponder the meaning of being "Blessed" purposefully.  And would you believe, the very next week our church started a new series on the Sermon on the Mount.  Which means that every Sunday since questioning who I am if I am "blessed," I have been inundated on Sunday mornings with what it means to be "blessed."  And the progression of new understanding has been fascinating.

Oh, my time at the computer is up.  I want to post something today, so will just have to finish the name saga in one final chapter.  Hopefully soon!

In the meantime, I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. : )

Blessed Pt.2

In my post last week I quoted the beginning of Matthew Chapter 5, and the first lines of the Sermon on the Mount, which we call the Beatitudes.  I wrote just a little on how I am blessed when I serve adoptive families, and how I am blessed because I mourn for this messed up world, for these families, for these kids, and for my own selfishness and sin. 

The words in those Beatitudes are a special encouragement  from God in heaven to me.  Because, as you know, I am Blessed.   I've never said how that name came about, so I think I might as well now, and might as well tell you the long, overly drawn-out story, since it is much funnier. 

Before I tell you, I want to make two three things clear: 

First, names are important to me.  I love to name things--dolls, toys, cars, pets, children--and to feel like I found *just* the right name to convey that particular thing or person.  (I'm not saying I always succeed, but it is fun--and important to me--to try.)  I think my love of naming is directly related to my love of words in general and my pleasure in using them well, and finding just the right word to convey the particular slant of meaning I intend--it is not only fun, but gratifying.  (Um, this does not mean I always use my words well--half the time when I write I only have enough brain power to make sure I am coherent, forget eloquent.) But also how we name something is important to me--calling something what it is not only speaks truth, but also shows we are not blind to the fullness of what it is, and the many implications of its fullness.  I think we have enough colloquialisms and old-timey sayings here in English that attest to the importance of naming correctly:  "call a spade a spade," "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," "pot calling the kettle black."  How we speak about--i.e. "name"--things and situations can show a bent in our minds and hearts towards truth or towards lies.   Speaking truth is very important to me.  So not only names in themselves are full of meaning for me, when they are given with meaning, but also is the very process of naming.  Names say so much not only about the thing being named, and the one who named it, but also teach us about ourselves as we respond to the name.

(I am really hoping this is one of those times I am at least being coherent!)

Ok, the second thing I want to make clear is that I prefer names to come organically--unforced.  You'll understand what I mean in a minute.

The third thing, which I wanted to add after I originally posted this, is that I am chuckling at myself the whole time I am writing this.  So it is fine for you to laugh too!


And for the rest of this post, I'll demonstrate this with examples from my own life: my own silly journey to find my own special nickname. 

I have been a reader all my life, and as a youth would read these teen stories with characters that had--what seemed at the time--wonderfully spirited teen names, names that set them apart, names that made them more exciting, more special, capable of greater things.  But now you will laugh at the names that so inspired me--Barbie.  Skipper.  Trixie Belden.  Honey.  Blair.  Blake.  Bubbles. Yes, to my great chagrin, there was a period of time when I thought "Bubbles" was a fantastic nickname, so. . . sophisticated.  (I had a strange attraction to names beginning with "B" too, which is now intriguing.) Oh, I thought my given name, Lisa, was so mundane.  None of the teen heroines in the books I read had that name.  It sounded decidedly unadverturesome and unimaginative. 

(My apologies, Mother--it is a nice name! It just did not sound in my head the way I wanted to imagine myself at age 13.)

So I really, really wanted a nickname.  I imagined myself as a Bubbles, and thought I would sound so much more fun, and would likely be more popular with a cute and cool nickname like that.  The only problem was that no one ever gave me a nickname, and I was adamant that nicknames were supposed to come from those around you, who saw the "real" you come bubbling through (ahem) and could not restrain themselves from affectionately naming the "real" you they saw and loved.  So I longed for a nickname that would come from a friend, or even a sister, that was spunky or sophisticated but definitely cool. 

It never came.  The only thing anyone ever did was shorten my already short name to "Lis."  Which is not so much a nickname as it is pure laziness.  Ok, affectionate laziness. ; )  Now I'm teasing my big sister Rebecca, who was the first one to call me that, and meant it in the best affectionate way--I did like it, kinda, because at least it was like a nickname.  But it didn't "name" me in a new way that would tell anyone hearing it something about me that was special, and thus deserving of the nickname.

In college I finally got my nickname.  And it happened organically too.  And some people even called me by it for a short time.  And it was, I swear, the absolute worst nickname anyone could ever have (that was not given to be cruel.)  It was. . . Er.  Yes.  "Er."  This came about because of a little in-joke with a guy I dated for a short while, named Brad.  He was Goth before there was Goth, and actually looked a lot like Edward Scissorhands.  ANYWAY, my maiden name is spelled one way but pronouned another way.  It is an Austrian name by heritage, and we always said the pronunciation was shorted somewhere along the way, ala Ellis Island style.  So basically there is an "e-r" at the very end that we don't actually say.  The letters are there in the spelling, but you just ignore them when you say the same.  As an adult, I realize this is strange.  As a college student, I had told Brad that actually he was pronouncing my last name wrong, and he thought it was so funny that he turned the joke around and pretended the first part of the name was the part you didn't pronounce, so my name was really "Er."  Lisa Er.  Er for short.  And so he affectionately called me Er, some people heard him do so and started calling me Er too. 

Oh, to finally get that long-awaited nickname!  Oh, the despair to have it be something so ugly.  A word that sounds like hesitancy, like a frog in the throat, like a mistake to be caught.  Sigh.   

I never told him not to call me that, because of course I was still secretly a little pleased that finally someone had caught sight of something playful, interesting and nickname worthy in me.  But I was also completely fine with its short-lived nature, as Brad and I only dated for a few months before he realized, er, I was too nice for his bad-boy side, and he was too nice to want to corrupt me.

So, that was that.  That was my one and only bonafide nickname, and it certainly did not satisfy my secret longing to be known, to be recognized for who I am inside.

I just remembered that a few years after that, I took a Greyhound bus from Illinois to Virginia, during a summer when DH and I were dating, and a hippie girl and I stayed up all night talking as the bus drove on.  I told her my name was Rhen, which I had decided was my new self-given nickname.  It was fun for a day--and I think I even received one letter from her afterwards addressed to Rhen, which was thrilling.  But then a cartoon came out with a character called Ren (ala Stimpy) and while I never saw the show, it forever ruined the nickname, since that's all people would think when they heard the name.

Skip forward a few years to when DH and I were out of college and engaged to be married.  After re-reading my sister Rebecca's ElfQuest graphic novels, I became enamored with an idea found in them, that of people having a secret name that is tied up with their soul.  Oh, yes--to have one every-day name that is used by everyone around me, and then to also have a secret name that belongs to the most inner me, the me most people would never know but which I might share with one special man someday and thusly cleave my spirit to his in a way that is undeniable, unbreakable.  Yes, I know.  How over-the-top romantic.  How idealized--and what a burden to place upon the man one will marry.

Yesterday was DH and my 17th wedding anniversary.  Which I realized the day before was coming up soon, but thought was the 10th, not the 7th.  And then realized last night it was actually yesterday!  Well, at least this year we remembered; last year we both forgot, and the year before that--the 15 year milestone--DH remembered but did not say anything to see if I would remember (thanks, hon).  I think I remembered about a month later.  Anyway, it is funny that I started this post a week ago, and am just now at the knowing thy spouse to his or her core part today after yesterday's "anniversary."  I no longer believe any person can know my deepest self, and it's not fair to expect that of my husband, who is after all a guy, and who is having a hard enough time figuring out this whole "woman" thing, let alone wrapping his brain around the one particular woman with whom he's now united for life.  In fact, I gave up this idealized notion of the swapping soul-names with one's spouse after a year or two of marriage.  In fact, I don't think I ever even told DH the ElfQuest-styled name I made up for myself, which is highly embarassing to reveal here, because I imagined this name really reflected my most secret self, and so it felt special, even sacred, but which will just look silly to you all. 

Kree.

You have to say it aloud to appreciate how pretty that sounds.  Looking back, I find it very telling that both the names I chose for myself, Rhen and Kree, were completely made up, with no actual meaning.  I think I did this unconsciously, choosing sounds that I liked together, and sounds that somehow evoked a feeling in me, that I thought resonated with who I am at my core.  And choosing to create a name is freeing because it will not have connotations of other things--made up names are unique (or, "Uuneeque,"if you have watched the fascinating documentary Freakonomics on Netflix, and it's section on baby names ; ) and so feel like they are tailor-made for that one person.  And made-up names allow the namer to imagine the name means anything they want; which is particularly helpful if you are still secretly not sure who you are and want to leave some wiggle room for self-revelation in the future. 

And that is why I think I had been longing for a special nickname all my life--I did not know myself, and wished I did, and hoped that whatever I found about my "real" self would be meaningful, special.  I wanted to know myself and be glad about what I found, and I wanted to be known, fully, and along with that, to be loved, fully. . . .


Final part to come!
Click here for Pt 3.

Another Saturday Story

The last Saturday story I want to share in this Week of Blessings happened Saturday, Sept. 10th.  I had signed up to attend a simulcast of a Beth Moore special event.  For those of you who don't know, Beth Moore is a Christian Bible study author and public speaker, usually writing and speaking to women (although her stuff is so deep and intensive and worthwhile that there are always some brave men who attend her studies and speaking).  Beth is very Southern, and has historically had big blond hairdos and lots of self-depreciating and completely hilarious stories to illustrate her points.  I enjoy her immensely, and think she is one of the best Christian study writers/speakers out there.  This special speaking/worship event was held at a very large arena outside of Huston, TX, and was streamed live over the internet to--I think she said--17 different countries, a few military bases, and at least one women's correctional facility.  There were about 180,000 people viewing the simulcast from host sites outside of TX--as far away as New Zealand!  (Since this was an all-day event for us here in CA, I imagine the Kiwi participants made it an all-night Beth Moore party!)  It was pretty amazing to think that people all over the world--mostly women--were gathering via the magic of the internet to pray and sing and learn together. 

Our host site was a local church, and the women gathering there for the day came from a variety of area churches--I love it when God-believing people come together like that.  The church took really good care of us, and provided breakfast before the simulcast started, lunch during the first break, and even chocolate dipped strawberries for refreshment during the afternoon break.  The tickets for the event only cost $25 each, so it is pretty clear the church was not making any money off this event--they were just ministering to the women gathered there.  I love that too. 

When I signed up to go, I did not know who else would be attending.  By a few days before, I learned my dear Becky would be there, so we carpooled, and when we arrived we saw other friends, including the women from the homeschool mentoring day we had a few weeks prior!  So once again I spent an entire day with truly awesome women, laughing and learning and soaking in all kinds of truth. 

Beth Moore said during the simulcast that she had been praying that each woman attending would receive "a word"--something that she needed to hear, that God wanted to tell her.  God has always been so faithful in speaking to me--through friends, through the Bible, through the quiet voice, through all kinds of arenas, even movies and newspaper articles!  I knew He had me there for a reason, so it was fun to say, "Ok, God, I trust you have something for me today--I can't wait."  Throughout the day, as Beth talked about all kinds of things, I tried to listen, to hear whatever idea God wanted me to walk away with.  At the last break of the day I took a walk alone to stretch my legs and think.  I was having vague feelings, knew I was on the brink of getting what He wanted me to get, but I could not quite put my finger on how all the ideas in my head connected into something I could grasp on to.  It was not until the end, when Becky and I pulled out of the driveway to go home, and she asked me what I had gotten out of the day, that it was like a little light went on, and I started to realize what God was saying to me--and we talked all the way to her house, and then sat in her driveway for over an hour talking and connecting the pieces. 

It was about my Mother-in-Law.  And how I have been taking a little emotional break since we last saw them, and how that was ok, but now it is time to step back into relationship--because she is worthy of love, and God wants me to love her.  Not only to be receptive, and friendly, but to reach out and be vulnerable.  It is where He wants me, and I am actually a little excited about it!  I mean, there will undoubtedly be PLENTY of moments that are REALLY painful and sad in the near future, but instead of feeling fearful and wanting to avoid them, I am feeling confident and ready to walk through them with MIL, in love. 

Just so you know, I am not pretending to be a saint by any means.  I am still the same flawed person, and I know I will mess things up and not love well sometimes and have plenty of oh crap! cold-chill, dear-in-the-headlights moments--but hopefully I'm no longer going to be living in fearful anticipation of them, and being afraid of being imperfect, and that feels really good.

And just so you know, Becky shared some specific insights in the car that day that immediately sent that thrill of recognition through me--it was truth that I needed to hear, and apply.  Would you believe just this past Saturday I stopped at my friend Terry's house (delivering tomatoes! so fun!) and when we chatted for a bit, the conversation came around to this same topic, and Terry shared one of the exact same insights that Becky had said!  Not a coincidence.  God knew I needed to hear it one more time, to get it rooted that much more deeply in my heart and mind. 

God, speaking to me.  Friends, encouraging and challenging me as His beautiful instruments.  A new vision for the future, that will hopefully bring more peace and love to our extended family.  And chocolate dipped strawberries.

I'm telling you all, this has been the best month of Saturdays.