We are in the great season of waiting. This season is one of great excitement but also a lot of nerves and worry because we do not know what lies ahead. We know not where we are going or what we are going to be asked to do. To be faithful and trust in this time of "lasts while we are here" is a season that feels much like parenthood.
Today as I was dropping off kids to school I had 3 very quiet little girls in the way back. Normally they are quite chatty. They weren't singing to the music, they weren't talking, they were visibly pensive and deep in thought. Now, if you know my kids, they are loud AF. Like all the time, so much that I often have to send them outside or to their den of madness so that I can quiet my own mind. I turned down the music and gently asked, "what are you ladies thinking about?" I waited, what felt like a long time, and there was just a slow roll of sighs. Our oldest said "Mama, I'm just thinking with this cold weather, I miss cold weather but I'll be sad if we have to leave Texas." Our 2nd chimed in that she was talking with her teacher about how we might be moving and she just got silent. Our 3rd, and most robust little love said, "I will miss this place." Of course the littlest sister was singing 5 Little Ducks! She's always been the levity we need.
They are right, the deepness of how this all is gonna shake out and what that means is settled in. Anticipation of what might be is equally deep. I miss the steadiness of the VIT's middler year. Settled in with some experience behind us and still a good piece left in front to navigate and enjoy. Now that we have 110 days (WTAF?!?!?!) left of seminary. We have 110 days of what has been a 7 year journey. A journey that took us all way outside our comfort zones and geographically away from what had been our home for almost a decade. We live in constant gratefulness for the opportunity and pray we have the fortitude to continue on in whatever direction and path is laid before us.
So little wee kids, we will wait. With great anticipation to see what lies ahead and we will look thoughtfully and lovingly at what has brought us to this point.
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Such is our life
Things around the Vicarage have been this amazing combination of excitement, sickness, visitors, and anticipation. We have been so blessed to have visitors, some whom have been on our bucket list to see for some time. We've also had the great pleasure to make a trip back West for the VIT's ordination in December. We got some quality time with our people there, many of whom have become part of our chosen family.
I am settling into a new term and into life as the mom of 5 little humans. Each addition has presented a new and different challenge but also provides me with a glimpse into what my legacy will be. Hopefully it'll be kind human beings who love each other and their neighbors as themselves. They will do the right thing, even when that feels hard. They will be my greatest achievement. I do so enjoy the look on people's faces when I tell them I have 5 children...it's a mixture of amazement, fear, and sometimes pity. I'll say, all those feelings are valid. Most of the time though, it's joy. I love my kids. I love their beautiful mess.
We are also heading into a time of great transition. Where will the call be? Will we be able to stay in Texas? If Texas, will it be Austin(ish)? If not, where? What part of the country? Where will I work if we have to move? What are the schools like? Will it be a good move? Will Bryan like the church and it's parishioners? Will this whole seminary journey be the end or the beginning? Through this transition I have realized my kids are super flexible. In the small moments they may not seem like they are, but they are. They know Daddy has a very different job than most people and will require that we be flexible on the daily and overall. It's amazing to me that they seem to just get this. I love them for this. I know it makes the VIT feel better too. They also just know and seem to understand that Mommy works, sometimes A LOT. Sometimes Mommy has to travel for work. They get it. I love them and respect them for their flexibility with us both.
119 days of this seminary adventure left. So much time yet so little is left.
I am settling into a new term and into life as the mom of 5 little humans. Each addition has presented a new and different challenge but also provides me with a glimpse into what my legacy will be. Hopefully it'll be kind human beings who love each other and their neighbors as themselves. They will do the right thing, even when that feels hard. They will be my greatest achievement. I do so enjoy the look on people's faces when I tell them I have 5 children...it's a mixture of amazement, fear, and sometimes pity. I'll say, all those feelings are valid. Most of the time though, it's joy. I love my kids. I love their beautiful mess.
We are also heading into a time of great transition. Where will the call be? Will we be able to stay in Texas? If Texas, will it be Austin(ish)? If not, where? What part of the country? Where will I work if we have to move? What are the schools like? Will it be a good move? Will Bryan like the church and it's parishioners? Will this whole seminary journey be the end or the beginning? Through this transition I have realized my kids are super flexible. In the small moments they may not seem like they are, but they are. They know Daddy has a very different job than most people and will require that we be flexible on the daily and overall. It's amazing to me that they seem to just get this. I love them for this. I know it makes the VIT feel better too. They also just know and seem to understand that Mommy works, sometimes A LOT. Sometimes Mommy has to travel for work. They get it. I love them and respect them for their flexibility with us both.
119 days of this seminary adventure left. So much time yet so little is left.
Wednesday, January 15, 2020
Spiritual Direction
What does this term mean? Spiritual direction, like make a left at the cross and give it up to Jesus? The term made me uncomfortable for a very long time. I'm one of those, personal relationship with Jesus folks, so why would I need someone other than maybe a priest, to help me discern God? Welp, God has a particular way of calling to a person. And sometimes you ignore that call as much as you possibly can and then without warning life events, the change in the seasons, and or some sort of happening happens and you can no longer push that sweet, patient, and grace-filled voice any longer.
Last week I had my first session with a person I was considering to help me with this discernment process. We had a very comfortable conversation about where I saw God in my life. What my relationship was with God. And why I had decided I needed some assistance in discerning this voice, this call. I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. I truly had one of those hokey holy spirit moments where I was simultaneously aware of what was happening but also truly felt that someone or something else was speaking through me. After about an hour I felt like this was going to be fruitful relationship/partnership and I was excited to get settled on the work I need to do.
So...who knows what the future will hold but for right now, it's good.
Last week I had my first session with a person I was considering to help me with this discernment process. We had a very comfortable conversation about where I saw God in my life. What my relationship was with God. And why I had decided I needed some assistance in discerning this voice, this call. I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. I truly had one of those hokey holy spirit moments where I was simultaneously aware of what was happening but also truly felt that someone or something else was speaking through me. After about an hour I felt like this was going to be fruitful relationship/partnership and I was excited to get settled on the work I need to do.
So...who knows what the future will hold but for right now, it's good.
Friday, January 3, 2020
All that is quiet
The VIT and I are watching a wonderful series on Netflix called "God" with Morgan Freeman. It's a wonderful and enlightening series if you feel so inclined. In one of the early episodes Mr. Freeman discusses our concept of near-death and "seeing God." This episode spoke to me.
While bringing PKIT 5.0 earthside you all know that there were some scary scary moments where we weren't entirely sure how things were going to play out. We weren't sure if he or I would be making it out of that OR alive. Plot twist, I'm still alive, so is he, we are awesome. However as part of therapy and in an effort to live into all that came about as a result of his birth, I have been carefully going over the experience and trying to ensure all of my experience is felt, honored, and properly cataloged in my mind and on paper.
During the most tumultuous 14 minutes of my life I experienced a level of peace to which cannot be properly explained. This type of peace, I've heard it explained before, in terms of meditation but had never felt before. Time was moving in slow motion but also at a rapid pace. Each piece of the pictures that were flashing through my mind were also being burned into my memory. I remember the smells and the feel of the sheet on the gurney, and the pattern of the surgical cap of the 2nd anesthesiologist they called in because one wasn't enough. I remember the face of PKIT was they literally pulled him out of my body. The way the air felt on my internal organs (no pain I promise but definitely felt the air). The way my beloved OB nurse kept pressing my belly (now I know to keep what little blood pressure I had up) and the way she requested I look her straight in the eyes and breath. The way the nurse in OR asked if I could possibly get up off the L&D gurney and hop over on to the surgical table (yes I did, with good body mechanics, not sure how as I had a heavy epidural already). I remember how quiet everyone was and worked. I mostly remember how quiet I was but how loud my mind was. I remember how loud it got once the PKIT was actually out. Looking up at him hovering over me and silently weeping and praying outloud, speaking his name, and blessing him as only a mother can. Immediately following I wiped my eyes and cracked a joke. At that moment the peace (the one we talk about in church that passes all understanding) broke.
I've often wondered if what I felt and saw and was during that time was true and real or if it was all some sort of unconscious but very realistic dream? From a physiological standpoint, I should not have even been conscious enough to recall any of this let alone in the detail I am sure I remember. I'm not sure I'll ever really know but I do know, God, they were there. I truly hope there will be other times when I feel that peace. I also hope that I am not on the brink of death to feel it. Much like people strive to feel that high, I strive to feel that peace. Perhaps I'll get there. Until then, I'll find a piece of that peace in all that is quiet.
While bringing PKIT 5.0 earthside you all know that there were some scary scary moments where we weren't entirely sure how things were going to play out. We weren't sure if he or I would be making it out of that OR alive. Plot twist, I'm still alive, so is he, we are awesome. However as part of therapy and in an effort to live into all that came about as a result of his birth, I have been carefully going over the experience and trying to ensure all of my experience is felt, honored, and properly cataloged in my mind and on paper.
During the most tumultuous 14 minutes of my life I experienced a level of peace to which cannot be properly explained. This type of peace, I've heard it explained before, in terms of meditation but had never felt before. Time was moving in slow motion but also at a rapid pace. Each piece of the pictures that were flashing through my mind were also being burned into my memory. I remember the smells and the feel of the sheet on the gurney, and the pattern of the surgical cap of the 2nd anesthesiologist they called in because one wasn't enough. I remember the face of PKIT was they literally pulled him out of my body. The way the air felt on my internal organs (no pain I promise but definitely felt the air). The way my beloved OB nurse kept pressing my belly (now I know to keep what little blood pressure I had up) and the way she requested I look her straight in the eyes and breath. The way the nurse in OR asked if I could possibly get up off the L&D gurney and hop over on to the surgical table (yes I did, with good body mechanics, not sure how as I had a heavy epidural already). I remember how quiet everyone was and worked. I mostly remember how quiet I was but how loud my mind was. I remember how loud it got once the PKIT was actually out. Looking up at him hovering over me and silently weeping and praying outloud, speaking his name, and blessing him as only a mother can. Immediately following I wiped my eyes and cracked a joke. At that moment the peace (the one we talk about in church that passes all understanding) broke.
I've often wondered if what I felt and saw and was during that time was true and real or if it was all some sort of unconscious but very realistic dream? From a physiological standpoint, I should not have even been conscious enough to recall any of this let alone in the detail I am sure I remember. I'm not sure I'll ever really know but I do know, God, they were there. I truly hope there will be other times when I feel that peace. I also hope that I am not on the brink of death to feel it. Much like people strive to feel that high, I strive to feel that peace. Perhaps I'll get there. Until then, I'll find a piece of that peace in all that is quiet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)