Tag: blogging

Shame

I haven’t written in a while and I’ve been trying to decide whether I even want to start writing again. It has been easier to not write. Easier to not think about things too deeply. Easier to not expose all my faults and weaknesses to the world. 

Yesterday, things came to a head mentally, when I finally put a name to what I was feeling and what has been hindering me in many aspects of life. 

Shame.  

I have been thinking about trying to expand my piano teaching next school year. I sat down and was trying to figure out  how to write a flier of what I am offering. On a whim, I looked up some other piano teachers in the area to see how they advertised and what they offered. And as I read through some of their qualifications and expertise and experience and all that they had to offer, I found myself shutting down. What am I doing? I don’t have all those qualifications. I don’t have that kind of experience. Do I even have a right to call myself a teacher? Am I just being pretentious to think I can do this? And I closed my computer and walked away from my project. Overwhelmed with a yucky feeling of shame. Who am I? I’m nothing. 

I’ve been thinking about my blog this week. Mostly because three different people who I don’t think even read my blog that much, said something specific to me about how important it was that I was writing. And my thoughts immediately went to the realm of shame. Who am I to write a blog? I don’t have anything to say. I’ve already said whatever I had to offer, now I’m done, and writing more is just boring people. Who am I? I’m nothing. 

This morning I was catching up on the reading plan our church is doing. I was about a week behind, so I was settled in to read a good size chunk. I got to Acts 10 and the story of Peter having a vision where a big sheet descends from heaven, full of all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles etc, that the Jews were forbidden to eat in their law because they were unclean. And a voice from heaven tells Peter to kill and eat. Peter responds, “By no means Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” Then the voice from heaven responds “What God has made clean, do not call common.” As the story progresses, we learn that this vision was to prepare Peter for the fact that the Gospel was for the Gentiles too, not just the Jews. Which, as  Gentile myself, is a pretty significant and wonderful event. 

But as I was reading, I found myself stopped abruptly, like running into a wall, when I read those words, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” Because this is what I am doing. God has said one thing about me and I’m saying the total opposite. 

I’m in a women’s Bible study right now and we are doing a study on Ephesians. We are only halfway through chapter three at the moment. But I’d like to make a non-comprehensive list of all the things God says that I am, that I’ve found just in the first couple chapters. 

I am blessed in Christ.

I am chosen in Him.

I am holy and blameless before him.

I have redemption through his blood and the forgiveness of my trespasses.

His grace is lavished on me.

I have obtained an inheritance.

I have been predestined to be to the praise of his glory.

I am sealed with the Holy Spirit.

I have been raised up with him and seated in the heavenly places.

I have been created in Christ Jesus for good works which God prepared beforehand.

I have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

I have been reconciled to God through the cross.

I have access to the Father.

I am a fellow citizen with the saints and a member of the household of God.

God says I have made you clean. Don’t call yourself common. 

And so I am trying. Again. To have faith (Lord strengthen my faith!). To believe I am who God says I am. 

I have adult children. I say these things to them all the time. You learn by making mistakes. Nobody expects you to be perfect, just keep trying. Of course you don’t have experience. You’re just getting started. It will come with time. Don’t worry about other people’s expectations. Just do your best. And if you fail, get up and try again. And I can say all these things to my children, because they are my kids and I know them, and I know that they are wonderful and gifted and I have all confidence that their lives are important and the things that they do, no matter how small, are all part of a bigger picture of who they are becoming and what they will do over the course of their lifetimes. 

And how much more does God see about me and who I am in Him. And he says, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” 

Who am I? In the worlds’ eyes, I don’t measure up to a lot. In my own eyes, I don’t measure up to a lot. But God. He has something different to say. 

So, I’m going to keep trying to become a better piano teacher as I gain experience over time and learn from my mistakes and keep working at improving. And I’m going to try to write more. Because it’s something God has given me to do. And I’ll trust that he knows what he is doing. 

It’s Been a While

Hello Everyone. It’s been a while. I hope you all are well. I know I’ve not been consistently writing since January. I needed a break, and now I’m excited to have a place to share again. 

It’s summer here and school is out for a couple months. I purposefully did not make a lot of plans for the summer, but despite that, our schedule has still filled up so that my monthly calendar on the kitchen wall is filled with writing. 

This is the first summer in four years that it’s just our family. No foster kids. No other people staying with us. Just us. My oldest daughter came home for the summer which is an added bonus. My son who is in the army is now in Washington State and my seventeen year old is about to launch from the house for a summer of outreach all over the world. But, everyone else is close. It feels decadent. Rich. Luxurious. Just me and my family. It’s not a place I want to stay. I want to be someone who has a heart for people and is always helping in some way. But right now, this feels like a very necessary and very wonderful step in healing and recovering to just have a summer to breathe deeply, move slowly, and enjoy my family. 

This past year was kind of a double whammy for me. My youngest child entered school for the first time, and then after three years, at Christmas, my foster daughter returned to her own home. Two of the big things that identified me, stay-at-home mom of young children, and foster mom, were suddenly gone. Looking back, I can say that I have been mourning the loss of those roles. But, while I was in the middle of it, I wasn’t able to think clearly enough to say, YOU ARE MOURNING, and it’s normal, and you’ll be ok. Instead I just felt a bewildering combination of anger, sadness, depression, and numbness. Lost. 

I hope I can write more about that journey in the future. Right now I still feel like I’m in a discovery phase where I’ve got to figure out what this next stage of life looks like. Still a stay-at-home mom, but the kids need different things now. Not a foster mom any more, but still in contact with my foster daughter. My family still needs me, but I now have bigger chunks of time where I could do other things too. I’m praying for direction. But also feeling that right now I’m still in the resting stage. I’ve signed up to teach piano lessons one day a week at my church’s homeschooling Co-op and that will start in the fall. I’m excited about that. Something to look forward to. But I’m glad I’ve still got summer to enjoy before that begins. 

So, consider this the catch-up blog. I tell you why I’ve been gone and that I plan to start writing again. And then next time, I can just jump back into all the things I’ve thought about sharing with you all over the past months. I’ve read some good books I’d love to rant about. God has been gracious and merciful in so many ways. My kids have been up to the normal funny kid antics. I can’t wait to share! See you again soon. 

Fat Fridays: NonDepressed Me Doesn’t Understand Depressed Me

Happy Fat Friday everyone. I’ve been gone a bit. Almost didn’t write today, but it’s stll Friday, I’ve still got a chance at this! 

This past month my exercise has diminished down to a brisk walk when it’s not too cold outside. I finally canceled my membership with the KICKOFF app that monitors your diet, gives you daily workouts and checks in with you every day. I canceled because I was no longer using the services and it’s too much money to just let it keep going when I’m not using it. I actually felt better when I canceled though. I know what I want to focus on with exercise and I feel like I can do it just using free resources. I also know that I need a different eating plan than what I was doing, so I’m still trying to figure out that one. 

What I wanted to write about today was the fact that Non-depressed Me has no understanding of Depressed Me. This past year as I was exercising and eating healthy, and the weight was coming off, and I was feeling great, I had these niggling memories. Memories of times in the past when I would lose weight, do well, and then somehow, it all came creeping back on. And I was always a little disappointed with that Old Esther who failed her diet and exercise plans so often. What was wrong with me? Why would I exchange this wonderful feeling of health and accomplishment for one of gluttany and sloth? I really had no idea why I had failed so often in the past. But I knew that, THIS TIME, I would accomplish my goals and stay on the path. 

And then Depressed Me showed up. And it was like someone took a big plank of wood and smacked me upside the head. And when I came to, Non-Depressed Me was gone, Depressed Me had taken up residence and I had the “AH HA!” moment when I remembered, very clearly, why I had failed so many times in the past. Depression. 

It sucks the life out of you. My emotions feel flat. My ambition is gone. Nothing is enjoyable. 

I am a bookworm, I have probably read close to a book a day since I was eight years old. This past month I have read one book. And it was one I’d read a million times before and I picked it because it had a happy ending with low-levels of crisis. I find myself zoning out with solitaire and flipping through Facebook and wishing I could find a book I actually wanted to read. I am still taking walks, but only when the weather gets at least into the 40s (F). We are having a cold winter (for us) and it’s no fun. 

These past couple days I have felt marginally better. I started writing my blog again. I’ve been sitting down at the piano, playing Bach. Angry Bach. Agitated Bach. But at least it’s been a good outlet for whatever is going on inside me. I’ve still managed to stay focused on getting the family to eat healthier. I have been baking our bread, about every two or three days, and that has been satisfying. Every week this month I have sat down and found new recipes for the week, made a menu, made a grocery list and tried to stick to it. It’s been cost effective and I’ve been making the kids eat new things which has made meal times more interesting for me, perhaps a little more stressful for them, but they’ve been doing pretty good with it. 

I also gave up paper plates. I’ve been using paper plates for my kids for several years. It meant that I only had to wash dishes once a day. Now I have to wash dishes two or three times a day, so I don’t know if I am actually saving anything, but it has been nice to have everyone eating off of pretty plates and my home has felt more homey. So, it’s not all negative. And I’m starting to try to have patience and compassion for Depressed-Me. Get to know this person again. See what diet and weight loss are going to look like while this alterego is hanging around. I’ll let you know how this goes. 

Being Healthy Takes Energy

I have come to some conclusions. My tank is dangerously low and is about to run dry. 

 

Things that used to fill my tank up: Going to church, having all the kids in Children’s church and being able to sit with my husband quietly, enjoy worship and teaching together; going out on Wednesday night’s with my girlfriends and just talking nonstop for several hours; going on a weekly date night with my husband. 

 

The first two have been affected by the quarantine, the last by having foster kids who are a bit much for my teenagers to handle when babysitting. 

 

At the same time, the mental energy that has been required of me has quadrupled. I think what is mostly wearing me out is being the resident Psychologist of the home. 

 

I am what people call a “good listener”. Which is fine, until you are absolutely drained dry and then you just feel like plugging your ears and saying NO MORE! 

 

RIght now, I’m sure there are a lot of people thinking, well, why don’t you try this or that or what about this idea? Just get creative! You can still figure out how to get your tank filled. 

 

And here is what people don’t realize. Exhausted, worn out, anxious or depressed people, they really don’t have the energy to get creative. Getting creative requires mental energy.  

 

 I remember my momentous 6 week postpartum check up after Phoebe was born. The Dr was horrible. She came in, looked at me a little puzzled, “Were you the one that had a C-section?”

Uh no. Wrong patient. I reminded her of who I was and what my birth involved. Ah yes. 

 

Then, at the end she asked me if I was having any problems with depression. I said yes, this was something I struggled with. Her response. Well, for goodness sakes, go find some help somewhere, I don’t want to read about you in the news. 

 

Gee. Thanks. I’ll do that. Because a depressed person definitely has all the motivation and energy in the world to go figure out insurance and find a provider and wait the two months it takes to get into a first appointment. 

 

So helpful. 

 

Compare that to my yearly check up I had with my Primary Care Doctor recently. I told her about some of the things I was struggling with and she said, You know, we have a resident Psychologist here, if you’re willing to wait a little bit, she can come and talk to you right now. And then she came and we talked and then scheduled future appointments. 

 

I know that life doesn’t work that way most of the time. Usually, if you are needing something, you are really the only one that can make sure you get what you need. In the end, you are responsible for your own mental health. I think though, that people who don’t struggle in this area, don’t realize how hard it is to take of yourself. It’s really, really hard. 

 

But, understanding the problem is half the battle. And I guess, that’s partly why I blog. I start writing, and it helps me think through the problem. 

 

So, I guess that’s what I’ve got to concentrate on, getting creative, despite the exhaustion, cause it’s a matter of survival. 

 

Can I have a Time Out?

Today is one of those days where I feel like I have no right to be writing a blog. I contemplated just posting one sentence. “Esther is too grumpy to write today, come back next week.” One of the main reasons I started writing this blog was to set up an accountability that forced me to write regularly. I knew that I enjoyed writing, but I didn’t do it often, and I was looking for an outlet where I not only would have a place to share my writing, but also a bit of pressure to keep writing. Which leads me to today where I would much rather hide under the covers of my bed with a book than attempt to write down my thoughts on anything. But, it’s blog-writing day.  I also wanted this blog to be a place where people could see someone being real. So. I guess I should write.

Have you ever had one of those days where you just needed a good Time Out? Like, listen, honey, you are not playing well, your attitude stinks, and I think you should go to your room for the rest of the day and think about it. How come grownups don’t get Time Outs? Probably cause we would take advantage of it. ME! ME! ME! I need a Time Out! Please, can I have a Time Out???? Maybe that’s one of the worst things about adulthood. There is no Time Out. You have to show up every day or face harsh consequences.

Days like today are the days where I feel like I really don’t deserve the title of Mom. Or wife. Or Christian. Or friend. I am not living up to my own expectations for these roles at all.

Life is also not living up to my expectations. As a teenager, dreaming about my future grown-up-ness, I imagined adventure, romance, excitement, doing things that helped save the world. And here I am. My adventure now entails trying to keep my family warm on a cold day with my little wood stove cause the heater broke down and we can’t get someone to look at it till tomorrow. Romance involves playing Yahtzee together in bed, late at night, and texting silly things to each other during the day. (Ok, I have no problems with the romance in my life, it has evolved from young passion into a solid love and enjoyment of each other, but it doesn’t look anything like the romance books talk about.) Excitement is calling 911 in the middle of the night because someone is shooting off a gun in my neighborhood. Saving the World? Well, I kind of hope that my kids are going to grow up to be solid citizens who will make a difference in the lives around them. And I guess I’m playing a part in that by doing my best to raise them right. But it’s kind of a nebulous achievement. No hard numbers or statistics to point at and say, Look, I have taught 20 illiterate adults to read! Look, I fed 100 orphans today! Look, I just spent a lot of time lobbying and I managed to get this bill passed that is going to help my community! Nope. I can say, hey, I signed my kids homework folder! Everyone in my house ate three meals today! My husband has clean socks in his drawer! All necessary things, but doesn’t feel much like saving the world.

My husband and I both grew up as missionary kids, and as adults we had a hard time settling down. We moved back to Tennessee fifteen years ago and I consider it something of a miracle that we have managed to stay. At least once a year one or both of us get the urge to move. Let’s just sell the house and go overseas. Let’s just move out of the city and find a nice little town to live in. Let’s move out West. Or up North. We call it being “restless”. Really though, it’s probably a good dose of “The grass looks greener over there.” As someone who moved about every two years my whole growing up life, I can tell you that for me, staying in one place is a million times harder than moving around. Staying in one place means you have to go through boring times where everything feels the same every day. Staying in one place means that you have to repair friendships and relationships when they unravel instead of just moving on to a new set of relationships. Staying in one place means you have to constantly adjust your expectations to fit the reality you are living in instead of just not dealing with it and moving on to something better over the horizon. (I am not trying to criticize people who move around a lot. It has its own set of pitfalls and downers and I know people aren’t moving around a lot just so they can avoid permanence. I’m just saying that for me, comparing both, I find permanence a lot harder.)

I am pretty sure that my mood today is a product of discontentment. The grass does look greener in the next yard. I feel like moving. I’m tired of housework. Everything feels blah.

So, I will adopt the cure I always give my children when they are particularly whiny and complaining. Be thankful.

Ok, here goes. I am thankful for my husband. I am thankful for my crazy kids. I am thankful for this old, beat-up house that shelters my children so perfectly. I am thankful for food on the table, a car out in the driveway, my husband’s job. I am thankful for this blog that gives me an outlet for all my personal angst. I’m thankful God still loves me. I’m thankful tomorrow is a new day.

See you all next time. Hopefully I’ll be a in a better mood by then. 🙂