Friday, December 14, 2012

Worth

A wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a confidant, a student, a worshipper of God, a daughter of the High King, a soon to be pastor's wife....

I've had a difficult time lately. Partly self imposed. Partly stemming from a comment/conversation with a friend. The words cut deep, magnifying a hidden insecurity I feel as a stay at home mom and wife. Who am I? And what worth do I have? Is my worth in keeping a clean and safe home for my husband and my daughter? Are my worth and my merit joined with my husband, the seminary student and soon to be pastor? Have I been made for my husband's benefit only? Is my calling to support my husband's calling and be used for his benefit as a pastor?

Deep questions stemming from a small conversation.

Right after the conversation I quickly reflected on the words spoken by my friend and I immediately expressed my hurt to Chris. I usually don't work this way. I usually think and think and think and analyze conversations and my feelings before coming to Chris to verbalize how I feel.
I guess I didn't need much time to think over how I felt about the words that questioned my worth, my calling. I was angry. And sad. Sad that this viewpoint is kept not only by my friend but by so many people in the world, Christian or not.


So, I decided to do something about it. I deactivated my Facebook page, and I even shut down my blog. Okay, so the blog thing didn't last very long, but I still very much need the break from Facebook.

I need some quiet time in my days, and using my small amount of down time to pursue Facebook just isn't cutting it. There are things that I love about Facebook- I love posting videos and pictures of Hannah so friends and family who are far away can enjoy her funny personality and so we won't feel so far away from each other. I love seeing glimpses into my friends lives all the way across the states. I love the funny videos and articles some of my friends post.
But I don't love the comparisons. I don't like it all. I'm not blaming anyone for this; I know it's my struggle.

Anyways, I wish I had some wise conclusion to this, but I don't. I just know...

Well, I do know that I am a lot of things. I am more than what I do or don't do in my home, deeper than the laundry pile on our bed, bigger than my to-do list, more complex than the recipe for homemade stew, I have more words inside me than 'no' and 'listen to mommy' (though it sometimes may not feel that way), and I know I am made for the same purpose as my husband. To love people and to serve God. It is a hard and rewarding job to be a stay at home mom and wife. It is a beautiful and deep job. It is my honor to love God, and to point to Jesus in this way.
And I know I am more than my title as a stay at home mom. I am beloved, I am me. The only one there is.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

a very very short story

“You think you would die if it happened to you. You hear stories and shake your head in an effort to knock the images out of your head. You click the news off, turning the channel to daytime tv, and pretend that these things only happen to other people. The horrible truth is… though everything collapsed around you, though your chest cracked open and your heart broke in two, you didn’t die. Somehow your lungs keep working and your heart continues beating. The horrible truth is that you are still alive… and they aren’t. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” I can barely whisper as I finish. 
Tears pour furiously down my cheeks and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. I chance a look around the room, and see soft nodding in response. 
My eyes meet hers in that moment. One tear escapes down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away. She smiles sadly at me, and I've never felt such affection for someone I've just met. I look down at my tightly clasped hands and strain to remember her name. Anne.  She said her name was Anne. When the circle waited for her to talk, she could only give his name and birthday in a whisper. She is old enough to be my mother, and I her child, I remember thinking. 
I look back up at the room and find her staring at me from across the circle. Her furrowed brow raised up in concern; her eyes searching my face. "I know." She whispers across the room, her eyes never leaving mine.