Inside a Room.

The world is typical.
Eons over, falling over itself
Tripping up the stairway to heaven.
Fumbling to get a grasp
on the basics:
the faith, the hope, the love.

Surely a life span
is not sufficient time to plan...
especially the waste of day to day.
The limits of a periphery.

Photo by Fredrik Öhlander on Unsplash

Plodding.

Every year, our family likes to sense what God may be wanting to do in and through us for that coming year. As I reflected on some of my hopes and dreams, I had this overwhelming sense that this was a character formation year of learning plodding and consistency. 

verb (used without object), plod·ded, plod·ding.

to walk heavily or move laboriously; trudge:to plod under the weight of a burden.

to proceed in a tediously slow manner:The play just plodded along in the second act.

to work with constant and monotonous perseverance; drudge.

noun, plural con·sist·en·cies.

a degree of density, firmness, viscosity, etc.:The liquid has the consistency of cream.

steadfast adherence to the same principles, course, form, etc.:There is consistency in his pattern of behavior.

agreement, harmony, or compatibility, especially correspondence or uniformity among the parts of a complex thing:consistency of colors throughout the house.

the condition of cohering or holding together and retaining form; solidity or firmness.

These words seem both daunting and yet also comforting; there's a maturity and wisdom in them.

As I'm in my mid-thirties now, I have learned (at least to some extent) to consider the value of unhurried and unrushed results; whether my faith, words, or my work, my fitness, or even my financial aspirations.  I have a little more perspective on my place in the world, and my time in it. I feel less repelled by the idea of a five-year plan, or ten-year plan, or even to think about me in my old age. So I'm needing to learn good habits that will serve me and my family in the long-term, rather than short-term. Not flash-in-the-pan solutions that have served my survival mode of youth for so long; but a steadiness that produces a slow burn at first and needs consistent kindling to produce any worthy flame. 

This isn't to say that suddenly I'm going to begin all these habits that are doomed to fail by February this year. This is adding a little structure and intention to many of my already-existing  routines.

I suppose I've been speaking vaguely, so here are some concrete ways I am plodding consistently:

• -I signed up to receive daily creative writing prompts to which I hope to write at least small fits and starts and develop my skills. These writing muscles have been flaccid far too long and I need a good fitness plan. Perfection isn't the goal; just consistency for now. I feel this is a God-given mandate to my heart at this point; anything else would be disobedience.
• -I don't necessarily have a plan yet, but I do hope to read more. I need it. Especially theology and philosophy and history, as those have occupied my thoughts since...well, since forever. Not to mention more consistency in reading the Bible.
• -I joined a gym last fall and have been attending regularly, and plan to continue that this year.
• -We have been saving for a trip to Ireland and Scotland and are going in May. This is a big deal for us as it marks our 15-year anniversary and also is a symbol to us of abundance. This is the first long trip we've taken since we've been married (besides our honeymoon!).
• -Paying off some medical debts (or praying for miraculous provision). Medical bills don't worry me so much, but they do keep mounting as insurance plans get worse. It's a nagging little thing at the back of my mind always.

That's all for now.

The Hard Work of Emotional Maturity

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

― E.E. Cummings

There was this one time that Rob had I had gotten into a fight about something (I cannot even remember about what we were fighting) and he decided that we weren't going to go into the restaurant that we had parked outside, but instead we were going to just go home because we couldn't come to an agreement.  I remember people were expecting us at the restaurant and I became consumed with wondering what they would think if we didn't come, and angry that this decision was being made for me.

I mean, really angry.

We were screaming, SCREAMING at each other in the car (a little embarrassing to admit) and I got so fed up that I slapped Rob on the cheek.  While he was driving.  Probably not one of my top five moments.

When I brought that incident up to Rob today, he graciously *vaguely* remembered it, but it is seared into my memory and is indicative of where I was emotionally six or seven years ago, and how much I've matured since then.  That said, I am aware that I am no where close to where I want to be.

I consider our emotions as part of our "soul," our psyche that we cannot see, but regularly needs tending.  I've heard from sources over the years that there is a theory that our being is comprised of three parts: physical body, spirit (the part that connects to spiritual things and God), and our souls, or the emotional/cognitive part of ourselves.

I would also distinguish that emotional health is slightly different then mental health in that emotions focus on how our feelings affect our behaviors whereas mental health may focus on how our thought patterns affect behavior.  They are inextricably connected but can also be exclusive to one another.

In our society, we focus a lot on what we can see; naturally, our physical bodies.  I don't even need to convince you at how pervasive this is in our western culture...we are obsessed with health, or lack thereof, of our physical beings.

In my (very limited) observations, though, it seems like we altogether neglect that our souls even exist or need any attention at all.  This hunch was further confirmed when I asked my good friend Deb, who also is a licensed clinical professional counselor, what she thought is our generation's problem with emotional health. She bluntly stated: "They have absolutely no awareness at all."

Okay, so now if we are aware that our emotional wounds and soul need attention, what do we do?

Well, similarly, if our physical bodies are out of shape, what do we do?  We come up with a plan to workout and eat better, and perhaps seek other sources (books, physical trainers, magazines) to give us insight into how to be healthy.

One of mine and Rob's favorite proverbs is: "The purposes of a person's heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out." (Proverbs 20:5)

We are designed in such a fashion that we are deep, complex beings...but thankfully, there are those people who are given 'insight' to help draw out the depths of us and interpret what is going on.  One such person is a counselor.

Thankfully the dumb stigma that has surrounded counseling for years is beginning to fade with each passing generation. I believe the stigma had origins in individuals fearing what they might discover about themselves, and once those 'deep waters' i.e., the motivations behind our actions, are uncovered, there's an unspoken accountability to change unhealthy patterns. In short, people don't like to change.

So, instead, many of us walk around with emotional scars that we are unaware even exist; or if we are aware, we have no idea how to truly heal.  Or maybe we know what it might take, but we are afraid or even exhausted at the idea of it, oblivious of the freedom that may lay on 'the other side.' So we keep trudging forward, blindly acting out in anger, addiction, depression, cutting, sickness...not understanding that our emotional pain will always find a way out. Sometimes we mask it for ourselves by throwing a blanket statement, "That's just the way I am."  Meanwhile, our relationships suffer.

We are ignorant of how it affects our day-to-day...how things that have happened to us 20 years ago can affect our here and now. As Deb said, we are unaware.

We remain emotionally stunted, and I fear many of us are not actually "growing up" and becoming who we are really meant to be...to push past the resistance that is constantly fighting against our freedom, to let down our pride and preconceptions, and to bite the bullet and really dig into our shit.

Some people think that emotional maturity comes naturally with age; but if that were true, then there would not be so many immature old people.  No, instead, the maturity comes with persistence and endurance.  Hard work.  Sweat, maybe blood, definitely tears.

Emotional maturity begins with the question; why do I act or think the way I do? (highly recommend with the help of a counselor).

I began counseling again earlier this year, and my counselor helped me identify a way I had never thought my emotional pain was manifesting: hypochondria. I develop phantom symptoms if I have not processed through being grieved, experiencing resentment/unforgiveness or just plain stress. Because of the natural interconnection of our body and soul, my body was saying, "Hey, your soul is hurting right now, pay attention!" My brain interpreted it only as a physical ailment.

Talk about a revelation. Now if I'm experiencing any sort of bodily discomfort, I have to ask myself, do I have something that I have left unprocessed? Am I experiencing any emotional pain right now?

Many of us with children quickly realize we don't wanna pass our emotional baggage on down to our children when our little 'mirrors' start reflecting back to us some of our own dysfunction (that we can see if we are tuned in)... so our motivation to confront our demons and deal can seem a little more urgent.  But parents, we need to know that we need to change not just our habits, but our hearts.  And the reward is not only their benefit, but ours; undoing generational curses and affecting generations to come.  The focus then not only is for ourselves, but our legacy.

So I asked my friend Deb a few more questions pertaining to emotional maturity:

What does an emotionally healthy person look like?

• Somebody who is aware of what they feel and why they feel it, is aware where it comes from, and owns it, that is it theirs and it is no one else's responsibility.

What would you recommend to parents to help their kids be emotionally healthy?

• They gotta do it first.  You gotta be aware of yourself first in order to teach them how to do it.  Also take pressure off the kids, let them know they will screw up...and you better make sure that you play with them; play is one of the most important parts of emotional regulation.

Emotional healing and maturity is integral to our beings and our relationships.  But don't be deceived into the thought that it will be easy.  If you begin confronting some of your own junk, the journey can be ugly, discouraging, disheartening; you need the mental stamina of an Ironman competition in order to make any progress.  And what's the barometer for progress? Healthier relationships, a richer sense of self, and an increased sense of peace. Emotionally mature (or at least, more mature than most) people aren't rattled or offended easily, and they don't mask stress or sadness with flimsy coping mechanisms.

Our emotions will ALWAYS find a way of expressing themselves through us, sometimes blatantly (anger, happiness, sadness, anxiety, fear, etc.) and sometimes in not-so-obvious ways (hypochondria, overeating, passive-agression, co-dependency, blaming others, etc.).  Some of our wounds are obvious (my father left when I was a child), and some need a little more digging (I felt deep shame when I first had sex, and now I feel shame every time I have it).

Emotional maturity...The gamut runs wide, and the river is deep; are you ready to go for a swim? 

The New Cold War and A Sleepover Party.

It's October and our hemisphere is on the brink of another winter, so naturally to me this time of year is often consumed with depression from lack of daylight and anxiety about the looming cold.  I've ramped up my intake of Vitamin D in hopes of warding off the seasonal blues. Despite my (very minimal) effort, there are still issues that keep me up in the night; not necessarily worrying about, but constantly thinking.  I'm sure many of you can relate.

I do, however, wonder how many of you might be up thinking about what appears to be increasing tensions between the US and Russia, and many pundits agree that we are deep in the throes of a New Cold War.  I found myself at 3am, downstairs and far away from my warm and comfortable bed, fixated on any documentary I could find about this frightening prospect.  I wanted to learn...how did this all begin? 3am seemed like a perfectly appropriate time to do this. Thankfully VICE News (HBO) gave excellent insight about the conflict, both past and present, you can watch it here, and I really encourage you to do it.  It's fascinating, and I believe that in the months and years to come, this will become front-page news if nothing is done to resolve diplomatic relations with us and the Motherland.

The next night, however, I was up again in the evil hours AGAIN, and this time for an entirely different reason. Our middle child is having a birthday sleepover in a few weeks, and I suddenly became aware of the fact that I invited way too many girls.  How in the world was I going to handle that abundance of high-pitched screaming and crying and laughing like crazy people and possible fighting...and that's just from my husband? (HA!) Let alone FIFTEEN GIRLS that I invited because I...er, I mean, my daughter...didn't want anyone to feel left out.

It was not lost on me that I was spending equal amounts of time, worry and planning on both potential nuclear war and a seven year old's Harry Potter birthday party, and I couldn't help but reflect on how life is so weird sometimes.  

That Refugee Problem.

After hearing about the current world refugee crisis from a blogger I admire, about little three-year-old Aylan washed up on the shores of Turkey (and I felt helpless and grieved and then inspired to do something) I rallied a really great group of people both from the community and the church who were also feeling the same feels.

(And I realize I'm a white, privileged girl from the 'burbs who at times feels so naive and powerless, but I desire to get over myself and just hope I can help someone, in some way, NOT FOR ME TO FEEL GREAT about what I'm doing, but because something within me cries out for justice and compassion to rule over darkness in this world...)

And so began #waucondawelcomesrefugees, working with an organization called RefugeeOne in Chicago, who have been bringing in refugees from around the world since the 80s.

He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners… Deuteronomy 10:18-19 (NIV)

The group members were all excited, and ready to tackle of all the world's problems and all of our angst, through the simple acts of raising money and household items for ONE family.  We've been at it for almost two months now, and for whatever reason, we're going through what I call The Molasses Stage.

You know, that point when the initial excitement wears off and you have to actually DO something and keep reminding people what you're doing and our Western world loses interest after about two minutes. Myself included. And we're trudging through the thick and sticky, and it's slow, and it's weirdly hard.

It's like labor pains; the buzz and frenzy that the baby is coming, and then the hell and length of labor drags on.  

We're in the valley now, in the deep basin, before climbing up the mountain again; where motivation is waning and discouragement settles in and you just wanna wrap yourself in it like a blanket on a cold, fall day and forget that any of the world is actually hurting.

But I keep thinking of that family. In my mind, they are faceless, but in reality they have faces. And they have hearts, and minds, and hopes and dreams.

There's a family on the other side of this story, the other side of this world, and they can't wrap themselves in blankets and tune out the rest of the world.  They're in the thick weeds, where I'm sure hope is so abstract.

Sometimes I sit here and I imagine myself in a refugee camp, where our family likely currently resides.

And I allow myself to feel what I really can only imagine what it must be like. The constant lines, and even more constant dirt. The rationing. The insecure walls. The inconvenience of everything. And just waiting.  Waiting for what? Pipe dreams? New life? Death?

Am I appealing to your emotions? Perhaps. But these sorts of things should make us feel, and get emotional.
 
I realize there are a million urgent issues in this world constantly pressing us for their attention.  For us, in this season, it is refugee families, especially the children.  

If it is refugees that tugs at your heartstrings and you're feeling inspired to help, we'd love for you to donate money or items to our cause. We have a few community events we will announce soon to help raise money, which we will likely announce this week.  If you'd like to learn more or donate, visit our website.
 
If it's not this issue for you, then what is it? In what way can you be empowered to take the mantle up on something that you're passionate about? Is there any room for that in your life? I'll tell you a couple things...if you really want to invest time, resources, energy...really make that difference...it will NOT be convenient. It will NOT be efficient. It will NOT go as planned.  But, it will be deeply satisfying, if not for you, than at least for the person on the other side. So go after it, and be the answer to prayer for someone today.