Thursday, February 19, 2015

For you are dust and to dust you shall return.

Yesterday was a disappointing day for me. Ironically, we got some real and very pretty snow (which I had been hoping for), but it curtailed our plans to attend our church's Ash Wednesday service (and the weather front gave me a HORRIBLE migraine). Much like in Boston, we have been attending an Anglican Church here in Durham (for anyone interested, it's affiliated with the Anglican Church of North America, should you perhaps know nothing about Anglicanism and want to do some research) and will potentially end up calling it home. This means that we follow the church calendar, including the observation of Lent. 

I did not grow up in a liturgical tradition, so the past four years at Anglican/Anglican-esque churches have been a learning curve for me (and I, by no means, believe that worshiping in the liturgical tradition is infinitely superior to the way I grew up; it is simply a different way). I have come to really appreciate the observance of the different seasons in the life of the church. For my personality, it has been really neat to experience the seasons of anticipation leading up to both Christmas and Easter, reminding me to fully appreciate and celebrate those most important of events.

For years, I knew that Lent was a period of time during which some Christians abstain from various foods or activities. I didn't fully understand the purpose of Lent until four years ago, when I participated to the fullest extent for the first time. I think, in many ways, I kind of thought of abstaining during Lent as an opportunity for participants to give up bad habits (probably because I knew people who would give up fattening foods). That's not exactly how Lent should work. The entire season is a period of time for us to be reminded of our sinfulness, our need of a savior. A period of grieving our sinfulness and remembering our need to repent. A giving up of something significant in our daily lives as an obvious reminder to return our hearts to our Savior. My heart desperately needs this each year, as I regularly find myself looking at the gospel as such an ordinary, everyday thing...rather than the miracle that it is. So, being a member of churches that observe Lent together has been revolutionary for me. I have learned that Lent isn't just a time of personal abstinence; it is a time for the people of God to join together in repentance.

There really is nothing like experiencing that intentionality and mindfulness together.

Ash Wednesday has become unbelievably significant to me over the past few years. I don't know how many of y'all have ever attended an Ash Wednesday service, but, odd and uncomfortable as it may seem, I recommend it, if you are considering participating in the season of Lent. The gravity of the truths spoken and prayed there, the solemnity of the imposition of ashes (that's Fancy for "they put ashes on your forehead"), and the awareness of the Body of Christ entering into something so significant together prepares the heart so well for such a weighty season.

The services involve times of prayerful repentance, scripture, collective prayers acknowledging our sin. The pastor invites participants forward to receive ashes (in the shape of a cross) on their foreheads, as he reminds us that we "are dust and to dust we shall return." How sobering is that reminder from Genesis? What a significant practice this has become to me as I prepare my heart for Easter.

During Lent, believers abstain from food or activities for six days a week but break the fast on Sundays. Sundays are not for fasting, as they are a reminder of the celebration that is coming. However, liturgical services do abstain from saying "Allelueia" during Lent. That is reserved for Easter, and let me tell you: it is so exciting to shout it out come Easter! Anglican churches hold an Easter Vigil the Saturday night before Easter Sunday, which is an incredible build up through scripture, song, and prayer to the point of the resurrection, when the congregation shouts "Allelueia!" for the first time in 47 days. There's no way for Easter to sneak up on you with a build-up like that!

The women at shereadstruth.com have put together a daily Lenten study that is so good. If you are interested in following along with some Lenten readings, I recommend it! Go back and read the first couple, too. Our church in Boston also has a downloadable version of their Lenten devotional here. It's a great taste of what observing Lent together looks like.

So although I missed the service that starts the season, I'm looking forward to observing it as best I can. I hope that the anticipation of Easter is as hope-filled and exciting for you, as well.



Wednesday, February 11, 2015

I solemnly pledge.

I have moved every two years since I graduated college (I am on my fourth city, by the way). Being the new girl is something I have grown accustomed to...although it isn't something that I feel any more comfortable with at all. I love the feeling (about a year or so in) when I have lovely new friends and a church and reasons to love where I am; before that, though, there is a lot of loneliness and awkwardness and frustration. I consider myself a people person and fairly socially adept, but I'm definitely not the most aggressive of go-getters and deal with my fair share of insecurity in making a place for myself.

In most all of the new places I've lived, I have met really nice people (usually at church or wherever I'm working) that I click with and exchange phone numbers with.* It usually goes something like:
Not me: Why don't I give you my number and we can maybe do something sometime.
Me: Sure. I'll text you mine so you'll have it.
Not me: Great! Just let me know when you want to hang out!

Now, this is a very nice and potentially helpful gesture...but unless the other person initiates contact with me after that exchange, it creates a lot of stress in my life.

Part of me wants to contact the nice gal who gave me her number, but I run into the issue of "I'm new here and have no idea where to go/what to do." Also, I have a toddler, so whatever we do needs to be toddler-friendly, and I need you to understand that even though I invited you to do something, you should expect to have only half of my attention and more than a few incomplete thoughts. In addition to having a toddler, we're also a grad student family, so our activity needs to be budget-friendly. On top of that, I'm really missing that place I just moved here from and am struggling with not being there and am trying to figure out how to like this new place where I am because I currently don't (which is particularly hard right now, as I'm missing Boston dreadfully. Yes, even the winter weather, as I happen to love winter, rather miss winter in Boston, and am bummed that the temperatures in Durham don't get very cold. I'm weird, I know. Don't get me started on how much I dislike summer in the South...fellow Southerners will question my sanity. But please don't question my Southern-ness. I will stop speaking to you.)

Anyway, all of those issues make me nervous about inviting someone to hang out. Being the inviter (?) comes with a certain pressure to be interesting and engaging and to take some responsibility for the time spent together. Hard to do when you don't have a "home court advantage," of sorts, but do have a small person demanding a lot of attention and a decent amount of insecurity due to being new.**

So, with that in mind, I make a pledge: when I am no longer the new girl, when I do have a "home court advantage," when I'm better at being a mom to a toddler, and when I meet another new girl and exchange numbers with her...I pledge to text or call her first. With a plan. A date, time, and place to meet and visit. I pledge to do my part to take the burden off of her and lend a friendly hand. Being new is hard and putting yourself out there is hard, so I pledge to do what I can to help a sister out.

* I have several women in my life who have taken the initiative and been unbelievably kind to me when I was the new girl, and I do not want to seem unappreciative of their kindness. Looking at you Nastia, Ira, Tracie, Rachael, and Anne. 

**Also: just because reaching out is hard for me doesn't me I don't do it. I don't want anyone reading this and thinking that I'm holed up in our house without any contact with the outside world. Well, technically, this week I am because Claire and I have wretched colds, but this is an anomaly. Usually we're doing what we can to socialize.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

The depths to which I've sunk in the name of "sanity"

Confession is good for the soul, so here it is:

Recently, I have gotten very, um, creative in my methods for keeping Claire occupied and active in a way I can control. As a toddler, she is, obviously, very into everything. Very curious, very inquisitive, very interested. All good qualities...when not constantly directed Mommy-ward. I know I will treasure these days in the future (and, in fact, I usually treasure them now), but in the moment, I find myself needing outlets for us both. Thus, I have recently done all of the following:

1. Gone to Target (in the rain) for no other purpose than to get popcorn and let her roam around the snack area.

2. Begun handing Claire a Lysol wipe and telling her how exciting it is to clean bathrooms! She wipes everything! Including doors! Because it's so fun!

3. Taught her to help carry laundry from the laundry room to either the living room to be folded or to the drying rack to air dry. The fun-ness of this activity is very akin to bathroom cleaning.

4. Recruited her to help with food prep (because it is so safe to do that with toddlers). I let her stand on our step ladder and pour things into other things. She loves it.*

5. Allowed her to "wash" dishes in the sink. It is very wet and messy, which bothers the tidy part of me. However, the tidy part of me isn't usually stronger than the "make her be still and reasonably quiet" part of me.

6. Let her unload the dishwasher with me. It used to be just the spoons. But, then I got lazy and allowed butter knives. Then forks...and now, I basically let her hand me anything she can reach. Again, so safe.

7. Taken unnecessary trips to Costco just so she can stretch her legs for a while. And get samples. 

8. Put on endless episodes of The Magic School Bus so that I could rest on the couch, post-migraine (surprisingly, this did not work terribly well...she ended up sitting on top of me, as close to my face as she could get. It was so restful and helpful in my recovery. Except the opposite.)

9. (and for the worst admission of them all) Pulled a little maneuver I like to call "Put on TMS for her to watch on the tv in the living room while I watched a show on the iPad in the kitchen so I could cook dinner without Ms. Frizzle talking to me about intestines." I'm awful, I know. I felt properly ashamed.

Anybody have any other suggestions? Preferable ones that make me seem like less of a Mom-shirker? Not that I promise to stop doing any of these things. Because I don't promise that at all.

*Just so everyone knows, every single activity mentioned in this post is closely monitored, no matter how flippant my tone may seem. Promise. I love my daughter and want her to be safe. **

**But also quiet and occupied.

Boswell beach trip 2022: part 1

Just another friendly reminder that I'm still playing catch-up. Clearly, it is not currently July... We made another annual trip to Tops...