Purge

Well, it's that time of year again...when I notice a drawer getting a cluttered, a pair of pants I never wear, and before I know it I'm in full-fledged purge mode, cleaning out the closets of all the things we don't need that's taking up space in our home.

The other day, I realized my four-year-old outgrew almost every pair of pants she owned.  This seemingly happened within a span of two weeks, her little legs just shot right out and within days she acquired an all-capri wardrobe that sent her ankles shivering in this wintry season.  How did that happen?  Upon buying her some longer pants, I was soon to find other ill-fitting clothes hiding in my daughter's dresser, and so began the task of clearing out and handing-me-down my girl's apparel.


Half-a-dozen trash bags later, all our closets had been lightened.  I have to say, having just moved across the country 7-ish months ago, I'm amazed at how much superfluous accumulation we had taken on within our 900 sq. ft. apartment.  Yes, the girls had rightfully outgrown a bit of their clothing, but Josh and I had our fair share of giveaways as well. T-shirts I just never wear, pajama pants that have an annoying drawstring, a shirt that shrunk in the dryer, a jacket that hasn't been worn in seasons...you get the picture.

The great "toy purge" is always my favorite - getting rid of all those ridiculous knick-knacks that somehow go from this-will-shut-my-kid-up-at-the-moment-necessary-survival-item, to junk in the span of only a few days.  McDonald's toys, stocking stuffers, puzzles with missing pieces, baby stuff they've lost interest in...it all adds up to a pile of someone-else's-treasures that get sacked up and ready to deliver to Goodwill (or the garbage bin, depending).

Ah, there is always a wonderful sense of pride and relief when I shove all that "extra" out of my home. While some of the items get passed on with nostalgia and feelings of sadness (I just can't believe my baby outgrew that sweet kitty jammie onesie, it was soooo adorable and now she'll never wear it again!) I take a deep breath and embrace the new freedom of what is to come.  I know new "things" and new "items" and most of all, new memories are always right around the corner.

Purging my house of unnecessary stuff also got me thinking about cleaning out more than just tangible junk.  What am I hanging onto inside that is simply just taking up SPACE?  Am I used to familiar worries or concerns or desires that have no bearing on my life right now?  Are there things I need to kick to the curb and move on from so that I can better use that mental space to store up new items like patience or grace that I could really, truly put to good use?

This got me thinking, and I'm still thinking and praying about it.  What is there to get rid of?

That residual guilt I have for leaving my girls in the care of someone else, even though I know there are times when it is absolutely the best thing for both of us in the moment.  That should go.  Ah, but that guilt feels so necessary - I wear it so well, and I think I might need it to keep me feeling okay about doing what I'm doing.  Really?  Nope, it's got to go.  Lord, help me replace that guilt with grace and strength.

What about that approval I need from others to feel like I'm going above and beyond in balancing my work and family?  Maybe that should be boxed up and sent away for good.  But what if someone thinks I'm not doing the right thing?  And it feels good when another person looks up to me.  I like other people's approval.  But, do I need it?  Do I wait for it in order to make decisions or be inspired?  It needs to be let go.  Lord, help me to seek your guidance and inspiration and remember that only You're approval matters in my life.  Help me replace that approval with genuine motivation to serve well.

What about you?  Hanging onto unnecessary clutter in your heart or mind that is just taking up useless space?  Maybe it felt good a long time ago, or maybe it even served a valid purpose when you needed it...but, can it be let go?  Can you join me in asking Jesus to replace that void with peace, grace, or kindness?

Purging isn't easy.  It's messy and emotional and it conjures up all kinds of memories and dirt that makes me want to rent out a storage unit with unlimited space.  But, limits are vital to thrive in this life, and they can be put to beautiful use when I ask God to reorganize the essentials.

Now, that's what I call real relief.

Out on a Limb

The other day I wrote about "passion" - that overused term that we all sort of cringe at because we think our true calling might still be beyond our grasp.  As a grad student, I read a lot.  It's not just the amount of reading that I have to do that sometimes makes my eyes itch and my brain swell...but, it's the content too.  While I (freakishly) love just about everything I'm required to read, it's not breezy stuff.  We're talking hardcore, mind-numbing literature that (for a chronically slow-reader like myself) makes me stop and glare at the letters on the page and wonder how I ever found my nose stuck in the middle of a giant textbook labeled Advanced Psychopathology.  Yikes!

But, one of the great things about my diving into all these scary texts is that once in a while I stumble across something that just has to be shared to the masses...something that you would never in your life (most likely) happen upon in your own daily reading routine or local book club (that is, unless your book club has a hankering for self-help or maybe lost a bet and is now obligated to read about Family Therapy.)

All this to say, as I was reading the book Doing Family Therapy, Second Edition: Craft and Creativity in Clinical Practice by Robert Taibbi, LCSW (ah, now you see why you will never stumble upon these words by accident) I read this passage regarding finding one's calling, and I thought it was too beautiful not to share.

I hope you enjoy this refreshing and inspiring view of finding purpose in your work...

This is work that flows from the inside out, rather than from the outside in, work that soaks in all of who and what you are.  It is work that goes beyond the boundaries of a "good job" with its means to other ends, or the "career," that track that we follow to some ultimate level or publicly recognized as success.  This is work as a calling. 

While the notion of a calling conjures up the sound of celestial choirs and beams of radiant light falling down on you from above, it most often begins with only a whisper of some inner voice telling you that this is something you should do, the flicker of an image across your mind that gradually, over time, grows into a vision that pulls you forward.  A calling is realized when you step back form what you are already doing and sense that this work is something htat you are not only good at, but were meant to do.  You have found a medium for expressing who you most are.  Like the artist, you become caught up in the flow of the work, you can lose sense of time, you are absolutely engaged.  You do the work not because of what you might get for it at some time in the future, but because of what the doing does for you in the present... 

If you are able to live this way, to wait and listen, then go to work to make your inner and outer life mirror to each other, then your life is filled with gut-sure honesty, with true integrity.  It will be a differently life than the carefully built one that keeps discovery locked away, that sets its marker early on and moves steadily forward.  To bring faith and discovery and honesty into your life, into your work, is to walk out on a trail on a crisp morning following the sound of the hawk flying above rather than the painted sign on the tree.  You may suddenly find yourself sitting out on a limb or looking over the edge of a cliff and not know why or how you got there.  You may look down and feel afraid, but if you look inside you will find courage; if you look up, you will see visions.

Isn't that awe-inspiring?  I wish I wrote it myself - but, I'm so glad to have read it! Who knew therapy textbooks could be so eloquent, right?  I hope that shed some light on your own calling and I pray that God will continue to reveal to each of us how we can better use our skills for His ultimate purpose.

Have a great weekend everyone.  Find the courage and keep looking up.

Red Flags

Dear Self,

Watch out for red flags in life.  Sure, there are the regular dangers - obvious temptations that most are
 normally guarded against.  Things like lust, gluttony, hatred...those things are commonly repulsive and there's often support to build up the moral courage to avoid them.

But, lately, there've been other red flags.  Flags I'm not so sure you're aware of and I want to hit you over the head before you become completely blind to them.  These are the red flags of distraction.

Your iPhone has a giant red flag, your computer, your stack of homework in the corner over there.  Your bills, your blog, your Facebook, your calendar, your Instagram, even your devotional that you don't read every day (might I take this opportunity to remind you to not forget about that one entirely).  These things are not good or bad.  They just are...and they are enormous filler-uppers of your time that you never intended to distract you so completely.

You need to pray about this.  You need to hand over some of the control that you are disillusioned into thinking you have.  You need to lay down these "priorities" and stop considering these options as if they are obligations.  They are not.  Not when you have reality flashing before your face at lightning speed, and you are losing sight of the fact that the present is turning into the past faster than you can type about it.

Turn the tv off.  Put the iPhone down.  Let the blog go for one more day.  Email that person when you actually have time...they'll wait, I promise.  These red flags are stealing more than just moments from your day - they are warning you against true destruction, losing yourself into these objects instead of into purpose.

You can't say no every time to every body; but, you can say yes to the things that matter most, most of the time.  These red flags around you are distracting you from being able to see the joy that surrounds you.  They steal your peace and obstruct your vision for what you want your life and time and energy to be spent on.

Self...take a deep breath.  You are not going to get this right the first time.  Ask God for extra grace as you take little steps in practicing new patterns, praying your way into a routine that seeks calm and reveres quiet.  These distractions don't have to be put to death, you can still write, still read, still peruse the status updates and photos of your friends...but, all in due time.  Embrace the freedom to take part in it all, and allow yourself the pleasure of being able to do so, instead of feeling burdened by thinking you are "so needed" and allowing your thoughts to be pulled in chaotic directions.

Be thankful for the red flags.  These distractions are warning signs, flashy and justified and sometimes intended for the good of others - but, they are toxic when overused, misused, abused, or dominating time that is meant for your calling.  Time better spent in the present.  Energy better used in being vulnerable.  Life better lived for His glory.

Pluck the red flags out, replace them with white ones, and surrender your burdens to the One who will never fail you when it comes to time management.  Yes, Jesus even cares about the loudest of moments, the craziest and most chaotic of schedules, and He's here to help you sort through the rubble and see a clearer picture of how this all fits together.  Let Him take His time with you.  He's never late.

One more deep breath.

Emily

Naturally

Motherhood is sneaky.  It gets crazier and more challenging by the hour, yet exponentially rewarding as it dominates life with no warning.  Even in those early hours of becoming a mother, when my baby was still under the supervision of doctors and nurses; when the congratulatory balloons in the corner haven't lost their deflation, and neither had my belly, the idea of becoming a mother was still comforted by the ideal that "my maternal nature is sure to kick in now".

The early days of motherhood are sacred.  This new creature overwhelmed my mind, body, and spirit, and what was a concept growing inside my body mere moments ago suddenly became a tangible expression of unconditional love.  The idea of this agape started as soon as that pregnancy test first glowed with positivity, yet it wasn't until actually holding the person that embodied this ideal that made me first step back and gasp at my arrogance: How could I have ever possibly thought I knew how to do this?

The only thing that can prepare you for being a mother is having a child.

Now, it's been a little over four years since I first held my eldest daughter in my arms, and I continue to look at both my girls with giddiness and fear.  These are MY children? How do I do this? Motherhood does not come naturally, no matter your background, training, experience, or expectation.  It boggles my mind every single day.

There's nothing natural about putting my body through excruciating aches and pains to deliver a new person into the world. There's nothing natural about getting up in the middle of the night a dozen times to feed, change, or just want to stare at this little human.  There's nothing natural about worrying irrationally about new fears I never even knew I had simply because my new responsibility to another can be too much to bear.

There's nothing natural about craft parties at 5 in the morning, about watching Curious George on my cell phone in the middle of a grocery store, about owning 14 tutus and 8 princess dresses (estimate), about getting irrationally angry and punching the wall because I stepped on another lego and just about broke my neck.  There's nothing natural about washing sippy cups, carrying crayons at the bottom of my purse at all times, or making up songs about poop.

There's nothing natural about getting screamed in the face, thrown-up on, snuggled to a suffocating degree, and then wanting to be around this same person with a nearly unhealthy compulsion to kiss her cheeks right off her little face.

There's nothing natural about wanting to meet the needs of someone who literally follows behind my every step deconstructing and destroying the efforts of housekeeping, laundering, cooking, or cleaning that I exhaustedly repeat with no end.

And most of all, there is nothing natural about willingly, uncomfortably, growing and changing into a more selfless person each and every day. But, that's the mystery and beauty of motherhood.

Motherhood makes no sense.  It's a perfect reflection of God's magical, perfect, insanely irrational love for us.  There is nothing natural about it, because every maternal instinct I have in me - to love, care, and give beyond myself - is absolutely the love of Jesus seeping through my body out into the open world.

I mess it up all the time.  I yell at my kids, I keep them in time out too long, I feed them pita chips and fruit snacks for breakfast, I strap them in their car seats and take them for a drive cause I am too frustrated to want to chase them around the house or peel them off the walls one more time.  And, each and every time I am reminded how ridiculously wonderful and scary it is that I'm given the opportunity to be Jesus to these little humans.  I'm so grateful to worship a God who gave us His Son and His Word to turn to when I feel so out of my element.

There are so many incredible aspects and gifts that come out of motherhood.  When I see my girls giggling or sharing or singing, I'm glimpsing at bits of heaven here on earth.  But, one of the greatest parts of motherhood I never saw coming:  laying down my ideals for what I thought would come so naturally, and accepting the amazing truth that what comes unnaturally is so, so much better.