Letter to a Friend

I've been feeling really great since Friday night. I have been stressing over life, thinking that nothing I do is really making a difference, that I could be making better choices, that my quality of life left something to be desired. But I realized that most of my problem lies in the fact that I haven't been consulting God in day-to-day and moment-by-moment decisions. I have simply been trying to "do my best." Of course I'm going to feel awful after that, because I'm not designed to only do my best; I'm designed to work within a much larger framework than myself called the body of Christ. I am part of a much bigger picture than myself, and 100 years from now, it is likely that few people will know my name, but that can't be what matters.

Once I came upon this realization, I felt so much lighter. More joyful. Even purposeful. My actions held more meaning, in that I found a lot of joy in the little things. Like following the impulse I felt to stand in line at the grocery store rather than hop in line at the U-Scan. It turned out that the cashier was having a rough few moments with some of her transactions, she was feeling stressed, and was apologizing profusely. It was such a pleasure to be able to ease a little of that tension when it came to be my turn in line.

Last night, Tim told me that the Community Center is in need of an ESL tutor on Tuesday nights. I have some experience with this (mainly teaching in Kazakhstan several years ago and substitute teaching through RACC), and I often find it rather challenging, but also rewarding. I also found out about a need for an ESL tutor at Berks Christian School and am looking into that. For me, it's fun to know that you love teaching ESL so much, because I have learned that this is one of my joys (and maybe even talents), too! Yet another thing we have in common! It's just encouraging to know that I may have opportunities to be a part of things that are helpful to others and leave me feeling somewhat fulfilled, as well.

I am still actively job-searching. I don't know what sort of job I will end up with, but with this new realization that I've come across in the past few days, I feel a lot less anxious over it. I'm a piece of the puzzle, not the star, so I don't feel so much pressure to have everything come out perfect-according-to-Sarah. Tim and I have a cute little apartment with plenty of space, plenty of clothes, a sufficient income, health insurance, great friends and family, and plenty of opportunities to serve and love. I really don't have a lot to complain about.

Last night, I called my sister.
I got the answering machine, so I pulled out my cutting board and starting chopping onions, garlic, scallions.
Minutes later, she called.
And we talked about life.
And I kept chopping. Red potatoes this time.
Hypothetical situations.
A little olive oil in a pan. Tossed with garlic and onions.
Maybe one day we'll live nearby.
And we'll both be pregnant at the same time.
Ground turkey, a little mustard, and worcestershire sauce.
And after that, she'll continue with her career, and I'll stay at home with my child and hers.
And we would both be perfectly happy with that because that's how we are.
I hung up the phone after almost an hour.
Just in time to put the finishing touches on dinner.
It was delicious.

A Sigh of Relief

I like to write. I really, really do. There's something satisfying about painting a picture with words. (Probably because I have never been good with actual paint.) But my posts during the last couple of weeks really haven't been satisfying at all. I've been so tired and so self-focused that I've been missing a lot of what's important.

I've been thinking a lot about babies and houses. At some point, I came upon the idea that a baby demands a house, and I have not been able to get my mind off of babies. I calculated mortgage costs, down payment costs, and baby costs. And I have confessed my selfishness to a few people who tell me that it is ok to have babies on the brain and even dwell on them. It's womanly and it's my right and it's normal.

True.
But.

I mentioned before that I have a tendency to hop from exciting thing to exciting thing and hardly savor the good stuff before asking for more. Maybe I didn't say it well, and maybe it didn't come out that way- my last two blog entries have been mainly attempts to sort out emotions- but that is me. I'm always wondering what can be changed, what can be better, what can I try next. This is both a strength and a weakness. It is a strength because it helps me to actively improve who I am, the kind of choices I make, the kind of life I am living. I like that. But out of balance, it is also the trigger in me that says that the roses can be smelled later. Right now, we are moving on to bigger and better things! The problem is that the roses usually wilt before I come back to them. I don't like that.

A friend of mine came to yoga class with me last night. He is a friend who I don't get to sit down and have coffee and talk with enough, so he asked me about life. Initially, I gave the pat, "good," but then I edited my statement and said that I don't know how to answer that question. There are days that I feel really hopeful and excited and there are days that I'd like to anounce to the world that I am moving to Hawaii. But then I started to talk about some of the myriad of people in my life, and I just visibly brightened up and I stayed that way.

That exchange got me thinking. The most important things in my life are relationships. Which don't require that I own a house or have a baby or really anything material. And this is obvious. But for the past few weeks, I have been searching for something to put me back on the road to contentment, and I realized. I have to choose contentment. I can write a long list of things I want, and I can dwell on that, and then I can create a plan for obtaining those things.
Or I can think about what I really treasure in life, and what really lights me up. And those things are almost always people. And I'm quite pleased with that.

A Little Less of Me, Me, Me, Please

I am feeling especially tired today (after 9 hours of sleep), and my appetite has been unbelievable. There have been many months that I would have used that information to think, "maybe I am pregnant," and then let my thoughts run away with me. I would have brainstormed the baby shower, my new workout routine, the nursery, "Mommy and Me" groups I would attend, and what I would put on the registry. Part of this is because I am a planner and part of it is because I am a dreamer.

When I was younger, I was always moving on to the next big thing as soon as the last was over. I didn't stop to savor very much; I simply paused and said, "that was great," and moved on. I remember this because my mom was always telling me I needed to stop and enjoy and not always say," what's next for me? what can I get excited about?" immediately. I think this was mainly because she wanted a break from carting me from activity to activity, but there was (and is) some truth to what she was saying. There is value to stopping and breathing and enjoying life. And I try to do that now, but it is so easy to slip back into "what's next for me?"

"What's next for me?" sounds a lot like "What about me?" which sounds a lot like "when do I get to be the star of the show?" Truth be told, I play a great supporting role. I like to love people, encourage them, and make their lives better. I don't know if I am always successful in that, but I like to try. Honestly, in this whole "baby fever" thing, I think I've lost a little bit of the supporting role I could have had, because I was so focused on me and I what I wanted (a baby, a well-decorated house). And I don't like that. I don't like how selfish I get sometimes. Like a kid in a toy store laser-beamed focused on the toy she wants with no regard to anyone else in the store. All of that energy spent thinking about me could have been spent on much better things.

When I think about it, I like the idea of playing a supporting role because I think humans were made to work interdependently, but our culture says that we should work independently and mostly look out for ourselves. Going with the idea of interdependence, everyone plays a supporting role, no one is the star, everyone is loved and taken care of. I mean, really, how many people could I have loved if I hadn't been so fixated on the baby I don't have? And how much happier would I have been knowing that I was working together with another human to make life a little better?

Baby Fever

Let's just be frank here.
I am in and out of baby fever all the time. All the time.
I love children, I love teenagers, I love adults. But there is this yearning for my own children, someone who will call me Mama. There is this yearning for the messy, tired, beautiful life that children bring and the desire to grow my family. I know Tim feels those kinds of things, too.
It seems like everyone around me is having babies. And it's possible that many of them may come and go. But my cousins Krissy, Stacey and Katy are pregnant, and I would just love if all of our kids could grow up together.

Tim and I have been married for two years now, but I have been substitute teaching for most of that time so that both of us could invest a lot of time in our church, youth group, and other relationships. I am just beginning the process of going hard after a full time teaching job, but of course, I could not accept such a job if I was pregnant because I am not planning on going back to teaching until all of my kids are in school for a full day. (The exception would, of course be if I could work as an online teacher from home, as my cousin Christine does.) So this is the dilemma, it seems: I feel like we don't have the financial stability to begin having children. If I were to acquire a full time job, I would have to quit it within several months, and we'd, of course, be back to one income. Unless I could work from home in a position such as an online teacher or a nanny.

Hm.

There is Magic in the Memories

I am tired of riding the roller coaster of hope and discouragement. I want to get off. Thanks.

I know that soon (in days or even hours) I will receive "unexpected" encouragement and I will feel strong enough to keep going. I will climb to the top and see beautiful things, and I'll suck in my breath like I've never seen anything more beautiful, I'll thank God, and I'll laugh at my shortcomings.

But right now, I'm in the valley, and it doesn't feel good. I know that some people don't like to hear this stuff from me. I'm the one that is "always happy," and cheers them on. But I'm not, and I don't mean to shatter anyone's world when I say that. But I'm entirely human with a full pallet of emotions, and I feel hope, anger, disappointment, joy, and dissatisfaction deeply. I identify with David when he waffles between "life is great!" and "I hate everything."
To those that think I am always happy, I show up looking like that because I am in love with the people I am with. That's love you see, not happiness. I suppose they look the same sometimes.

On a whim, I looked through my photos on facebook. It was a good idea, because I was reminded of so much that really matters to me in this world, which essentially amounts to people.
It has been said that the most discouraging thing about loving people is people, but the most rewarding thing about loving people is also people. I hang on to the that when I feel really low because it reminds me that all of this is worth it. Sometimes I am told that I should just relax and not let things effect me so much; I disagree. Because allowing my love for people to impact me as negatively as it does also opens the door the same "amount" of positive impact.

It's worth it. I feel better just being reminded of that.

I am a Liar, but there is no Lying in Heaven.

I recently found out about a lie that was told about my husband in effort to proverbially save someone else's butt. I was sufficiently annoyed. I wanted to set the record straight.
My husband said no. After a short conversation, I realized that my annoyance was mostly related to pride.

Because I understand lying. I often lie when I am asked if I need help because I don't want to be a burden to someone else. I lie when Tim asks me what's wrong because I don't want to be a burden to him. (But I am a terrible liar, and he doesn't let me get away with it.) And lying always does the opposite of what I actually want- it works towards creating a wedge in the community I desire and encourages isolation- even when I "mean well."

The truth is, I desire community and true love, but those things are awkward. They look perfect and smooth in the books and the songs, but that is a false representation. I feel awkward when I accept help, I feel awkward when I am in the beginning (and middle!) stages of building relationships. I feel angry, disappointed, and sad to the point of (many) tears. But even while I am experiencing discouragement (which is often, because I desire to continue moving forward, and with new ground comes many unforeseen potholes, hills, and turns), I have the feeling that I am living in the middle of something beautiful. Just because I see beautiful things every day. Like the students that are thinking through the messages they are hearing for themselves and asking questions. Like the kids at the Community Center who, after nearly three months, are beginning to understand that I care about them and respond to that. Like the relationships with my kids and "Tim's" family (they're mine, too!) that are deepening. Like the encouragement that I periodically receive that maybe I'm doing ok, and I should just keep truckin'.

Things feel very bittersweet at the moment. But it's hard to imagine not always feeling that way to some degree. There are things that pull me down. Like the unloving actions of the church, the fact that orphans are treated as a last resort, the fact that people treat other people like objects. Like all the pain and suffering and misunderstanding and selfishness. But the sweet part comes because in the middle of it all, God still walks. He cares, he loves, and he is so much more heartbroken than I am. And it just.makes.me.long.for.heaven. Which is fine. Because it's such a reminder to put myself aside for a little while and live like I am part of the kingdom of God.