An Empty Well

Background: two years ago I was pregnant with Baby #6.  I was teaching music classes in my home every week.  I was already feeling sick from the pregnancy, then we had six weeks straight of stomach bug tag at home that required lots of clean-up and lots of ME.  John got a new job around that time that took him out of the home a lot more than he had been before.  I had a baby two weeks before school (and carpooling) started the next fall.  I took a semester off of teaching music classes when my baby was born and then went back to them.  I started homeschooling.  My baby stopped sleeping.  Life got crazy and I got...lost.  I stopped taking care of myself and gave and gave and gave until I didn't have anything left.  And I have been there ever since.  Sometimes better, sometimes not, but mostly just surviving.

I realized this morning that I have been feeling like my soul is an empty, dry well with a child-size teacup sitting on the dry ground in the bottom of it, holding all that is left of me.  There's a little water in the teacup, but not much.  And so lately (for a while, actually) I have found myself unable to motivate myself to do more than the absolute minimum, essentially rationing the remaining water in that little teacup, giving out a drop here and a drop there when I absolutely had to, adding a few drops to the cup each day with  my scripture study and prayer (just enough to stay alive) but basically just surviving on what little there was and expending as little effort and energy as I could because that cup held all I had to give, and if I used it all up there would be nothing left of me.  That's where I have been, and it's not a happy place to be.

I'm not big on New Year's resolutions, but I have decided that I have to devote some more time to feeding my own soul so that I will have something in my well to draw from.  Temple worship, exercise, date nights, scripture study and prayer, reading good books, maybe writing a bit too--I haven't felt like I could take as much time for these essential things as I would have liked to, but I just have to do it.  My hope is that as I take time to feed my own soul, I will find more within my soul to share with my family--more energy to read to and play with my kids and take care of them, more patience, more of all that is good within me.  My kids need a healthy, happy mama and I need to be out of survival mode, so I am going to do some necessary maintenance on my soul and see if I can get this well flowing again.  I want to be able to pour out love and encouragement and kindness on my husband and my children and my home and my life, and not be constantly rationing because I feel like I'm going to fade away if I give any more than the bare minimum.  They deserve better than that and so do I.  Anyone else with me?

Different economic views illustrated by the movie It's a Wonderful Life

How Socialists view Socialism (George Bailey's speech):

How Socialists view Capitalism:

How Capitalists view Socialism (this one is a bit of a stretch, but the closest I could find):

How Capitalists view Capitalism:

Something to think about. This is why it is difficult for a Capitalist and a Socialist to have a rational conversation about economic policy. Not that both parties aren't rational individuals, just that they are generally talking about completely different things and that makes it hard to understand each other's point of view. For what it's worth, I happen to know both Socialists and Capitalists, and, contrary to the some people's opinions, the Socialists are not unintelligent (the ones I know are very intelligent people, in fact) and the Capitalists are not greedy or heartless (they are very kind, generous people, in fact). We all have more in common than not. I don't believe in Socialism, but I do believe in human kindness, and I am convinced that no economic system will ever be successful without it. Most Capitalists I know feel the same way. Let's take the best that is within us, love and serve one another, and build one another up instead of tearing each other down.

Merry Christmas everyone!

The Velveteen Rabbit and an Epiphany

As I was reading our old, torn copy of The Velveteen Rabbit to my daughter today, I came across these passages:

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse.  "It's a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, you become Real.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and you get very shabby." 

....The little Rabbit was so happy that he never noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was getting shabbier, and his tail coming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed off his nose where the Boy had kissed him. 

....One day the Boy was ill.  His face grew very flushed, and his little body was so hot that it burned the Rabbit when he held him close.  It was a long weary time.... 

Presently the fever turned, and the Boy got better.  The doctor ordered that all the books and toys that the Boy had played with in bed must be burned. 

And so the little Rabbit was carried out to the garden.  Nearby he could see the raspberry canes, in whose shadow he had played with the boy, and a great sadness came over him.  Of what use was it to be loved and become Real if it all ended like this?  And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground. 

And then a strange thing happened.  For where the tear had fallen a flower grew.  And out of it there stepped a fairy.  She kissed the little Rabbit on his nose. 

"I am the nursery magic Fairy," she said.  "I take care of all the playthings that the children have loved.  When they are old and worn out and the children don't need them anymore, I come and take them away with me and turn them into Real." 

"Wasn't I Real before?" asked the little Rabbit. 

"You were Real to the boy," the Fairy said, "because he loved you.  Now you shall be Real to everyone."                

                               from The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams 

As I read these passages, I thought about being a mother to my precious children, and how much more real, rich and full, my life is since I learned to give it away.  Maybe my eyes have wrinkles and shadows, maybe my belly is round and soft where it once was firm and flat, maybe my body has stripes and spots where it didn't before, but those are all indicators that I have LIVED.  I hope to live my life in such a way that when my body is old and worn out, an angel will come and take me away and turn me into REAL.  I believe that this opportunity is given to each of us, whether we are parents or not...we choose whether to give our life away, or keep it to ourselves.  I hope that we will choose to love and be loved, to wear out our lives in service and love for our fellowman, for that is the only way to truly become REAL.

"For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it."              

                                                                                                Luke 9:24

For my son who would be ten...

Every year at this time
A familiar sadness
Weighs at my heart
The tugging of unseen hands
Calls me to remember
Begs me not to forget
The sacred sorrow
Exquisite longing
Of mother
For son
Whose oh-so-brief visit
Caught a piece of my heart
And held fast
Unwilling to let go
To relinquish
His hold
On a life
That was his to touch
And barely taste
Before it was his time
To go.

I miss him.
Somewhere, I know,
His work goes on
And mine, also,
Will not wait
But once a year
He tugs again
At heartstrings
That refuse
To let him go.
I hold space in my heart
For him
Remembering
Missing
Longing for
My baby.
He sends from afar
A phantom embrace.
He blows a kiss
I can almost catch
If I pause
And feel
And remember.
A fleeting moment
When heaven touches earth
Again
And I hold tryst
With memory
With heart
With soul
Of one who came
But could not stay
And left a hole
A void
An empty place
Behind him
That I fall into
Again
Every year at this time.

Goodbye, my son,
For another year.
Mama loves you.
I won't forget--
I promise.
My heart won't let me.
And I wouldn't want it to,
As long as you are there
And I am here
Without you.
Love, Mama

A Little Unsteady

When Faith was born, I had lots of help right at the beginning, lots of visitors, and lots going on.  John was working full-time and felt like he couldn't take a lot of time off.  School started two weeks later.  I was home all day, every day, with a newborn and a very active and exuberant toddler who ADORED her baby sister (and was/is physically incapable of leaving her alone).  Faith is a lovely, happy baby, but of all my babies she is the one who has had the greatest need to be held, constantly.  I got next to nothing done around my house for months.  I just held her, and watched my house fall apart and my kids go to bed late because dinner was late because I was holding Faith all. the. time.  It was very overwhelming, and I was so tired, and I was struggling.  I watched this video by BYU's Noteworthy (linked below), and it spoke to my heart and gave voice to what I was feeling in a way I hadn't experienced before.  I was feeling unsteady, and I desperately needed someone to hold on to me, because if they didn't I was going to fall apart.  I didn't know how to say that, or how to ask for help (I've never been good at that) so I just kept going through the motions day after day, trying to survive.  I don't think it was postpartum depression, I was just overwhelmed and so tired.  But it was getting to me.  At one point I had the thought, "at least if I die of sleep-deprivation John can marry someone else who will be a better mom than me".  That scared me.  I sat John down and made him watch that Noteworthy song and said "THAT's how I feel.  Please help me."  I'm not sure exactly what changed, but over time it got better.  I started going to an exercise class a couple days a week, I called my midwife and got a recommendation for an herb to take to help with anxiety (motherwort + red raspberry leaf tea).  I asked my family to help clean up instead of just staring at my messy house and wishing I could do something about it.  I am in a lot better place right now, and I am grateful for that.  I feel like sometimes God lets me go through things like that to teach me that I don't have to do everything, it's okay to ask for help and I can lean on those who love me when I can't quite stand on my own.  Faith is a precious gift, worth anything I/we had to go through to get her here.  I know that in the eternal scheme of things all the sacrifices are a very small price to pay for the infinite gift we've been given.  And I rejoice in that.  But I want you to know, if you're feeling a little (or a lot) unsteady, you don't have to do it alone.  There are those who love you all around you, and even if they don't quite understand, you also have a Father in Heaven who loves you and does understand.  He can help you know how to get through it, and He will hold onto you all the while.