manna

On Sunday during worship, I heard this word spoken to my heart. I know what it means. I mean, I know what it meant to the Israelites as they wandered in the desert, COMPLETELY dependent upon God for their every need to be met. They were frustrated with God. They looked back to Egypt, and their generations of suffering seemed to pale in comparison to the life of uncertainty they were facing there in the desert. In spite of the way he rescued them, brought them across the Red Sea and separated them from a nation who had oppressed them for generations, they grumbled against him. Their hunger pangs became so loud in their ears they could not remember the horrors of Egypt. And yet even in the midst of this he proved his love and faithfulness to them by providing just enough manna for them each morning to last them the day. In fact, any gathered and kept until the next day would spoil. There were some who gathered more than they needed for the day, kept the extra until the next day, and would find worms it it when they went to eat from it. 

It's as if the loving discipline from the Lord was to hem them in and not allow them to practice distrust. He created parameters for them to function ONLY in complete dependence upon him for all of their needs to be met. His loving discipline redirected and guided them back into practicing surrender and abandonment to his providence and love. There was enough for each day. It was enough. He was enough.

After I wrote the post about letting go of trying to find the lessons for this season, and just live and breathe each moment as it comes, staying as present as possible, I feel like we have been under ridiculous attack. I cannot explain it in any other way at all. The truck we just bought around Thanksgiving basically just had to have the engine rebuilt. While we were still driving the loaner vehicle we were using while the Suburban was in the shop, Jason wrecked our Subaru last Friday and it's most likely totaled. Dakota is having seemingly endless problems in school regardless of what changes we are trying to make to make it so he DOESN'T run into other kids (read: third fight in two months). Other small things then become bigger things when you are so stressed. 

There is a lesson in manna. The daily dependence on God... it is as much of a choice on our part to choose to abandon our own striving to provide for ourselves and our needs and simply receive what he has for us. It means letting go of understanding the lack and why there is a lack, or why there is plenty... the lack or the plenty are equally enough because we are ebbing and flowing within God's hands. Within the lack God has the opportunity to show up. Within the plenty we recognize his hand and blessing and give him glory. But he gives us enough for each day. It will be okay. Manna was there each morning, ready for collection in the morning, "enough" was according to the needs of each man for the day, nothing more, nothing less. I am trying to find the manna of grace, love and peace for each day that is already provided to me, to lay back and to trust and stop worrying about things I cannot control, or stop trying to control everything which creates anxiety and fear and frustration. 

This is where -- as my pastor put it -- "the sufficiency of Christ" is proven. This is where we realize the promise of peace, joy and love (among many other beautiful things) that comes from relationship with Jesus. We have to be willing to lay back and trust; to lay back and receive. Jesus didn't promise us this abundant, trial free life, rich with blessing and minimal struggle... This "life enhancement Jesus" being preached from pulpits today seems to far off. Last time I checked we were promised persecution if we truly love him. But that the key is to know him is to partake in his sufferings (of varying levels of intensity, for sure), because in the midst of this suffering we are like him, but we also are able to draw near to him and receive from him the love and joy and peace and happiness that comes from knowing him so deeply. We can be facing intense trial and still have joy. This is available to me daily. This is profound and supersedes the pain. In my deepest places of pain and struggle I have known the nearness of Christ in a way that has helped me know him so intimately, it became the deep well that I know I am able to draw from in my trials today. The Spirit reminded me of this on Sunday. This is available to me each day. Manna for each day. He is enough. His love is enough. 

i don't think we'll ever arrive.

Have you ever had one of those moments where everything is clear... you realize that all the tension, angst and uncertainty are wasted on the reality that you are caught up in the whirlwind of an unpredictable journey over which you have no control? Where you recognize that your desire to define and understand are carnal and fleshly and of the earthly mind and do NOT make your experience any easier to take? And that your efforts to define and understand may actually hinder your ability to actually derive from life all that it presents to you and may numb the senses that, though feeling pain, are still feeling, still fully alive, still fully functioning in the ebb and flow of the good, bad and in between... That skipping over the words on the page to get to the good parts means you're missing the point of the story... and unless you slooooooow doooowwwwwn and read it all, you'll never learn. 

This morning, I had a moment. I was reading about tomatoes and cucumbers and pollination and making spaghetti sauce and I found myself doing what I almost always do... skipping or skimming over the words on the page until I found the answers I wanted. Meanwhile, in between, there was so much information that would be beneficial to me as a gardener, that I assumed I would have no use for... maybe I didn't consciously think that, but my actions showed disdain for the majority of the subject matter written on the page and only a narrow agenda with limited ability to acquire knowledge because of the way I was limiting myself.

Without dragging this out, the point is, I realized something, though it may not last. I have been grasping for answers for so long, trying to find and define the lesson that I am supposed to learn, so that I can learn it and be done. I am rushing through my days, looking for Formula God to tell me what to do, as if I am still somehow supposed to earn my stripes in life to be able to graduate to the next level. The ability to accept and receive joy, peace, and happiness in the midst of a life that seems to constantly have the carrot of "better" dangling just out of my reach at all times has created this discontent and unfortunately hopelessness at times. The point is, I am missing it all. I am missing out on LIFE. ALL of it. My capacity for pain also increase my capacity for joy. My capacity for hopelessness increases my capacity for hope. My capacity for discontent also increases my capacity for satisfaction. My capacity to feel sad and angry and to cry also increases my capacity to laugh and feel joy. See, I've been speeding past the feelings, losing out on the opportunity to feel it all, to live, and breathe and move in this space, this season, to explore the fringes of it, a quiet corners and big, loud, wide open spaces of it. I have been searching for a reality that simply isn't there. Because here I am. I am here. I am here now. 

The still, small, voice I heard today was: If you want to learn, you need to slow down and read it all. Feel it all. 

It's time to feel it all.

bare

I have been toiling over the subject matter hereafter for quite some time. When I sit down to write I usually am ready to collect my thoughts and process through whatever it is that has been swirling around my heart and my head... I am ready to "define" it, ready to name it and start working through it. These blog posts are landmarks for me -- a sort of signpost to reflect back upon as to where I am, where I have come from and where I am going on my journey. 

Something you must know... if you are reading this right now, you are a rare bird. You get to hear about the deepest places of my heart. This fact -- that this blog is where I share with people I cannot see or touch or feel or hear responses from the deepest places of my heart... this fact has been the starting point for all of the things that I am about to share... the fact that I have this freedom to share with all of you things that I will not share with people in my day to day life, people I might call "friends"... people that in the past I might have prided myself on being so open with -- THIS reality has hit me and caused me to really think about the woman that I have become over the last several years. I am not really sure how to articulate what this means, but I am going to document it here, because I need to, and I hope that maybe some of you may relate. 

So, here's the truth. I don't really have any close friends at all. I am not feeling sorry for myself about this. It's just the way it is, and I am trying to figure out why. I don't have anyone right now that I am willing to call and talk to about what's going on in my life. To open up and talk about my life is such a chore and has become such an awkward thing for me, that I really don't do it. I have discovered something about myself... well... let me back up. This is where it will all come out and probably be very disorganized. When I started blogging, I opened myself up to a world that has been overall very beneficial in terms of recognizing that in the general everyday struggles of life as a mother and wife and a person I am not alone. This has been a comfort. It has also connected me with some people that otherwise I might not meet as I go along in life - people that I really relate to in terms of the things I dream about, value and the lifestyle that I lead or hope to lead in the future. There have been people that I've met that God has used my story to help them or encourage them. There have also been people that I have met that I recognized some common experiences with or saw that they were walking through or about to walk through some of the same things I had to go through or put myself through... and in my desire to nurture and love and guide -- in my passionate desire to spare anyone from the pain I have brought upon myself I have volunteered so much advice and help that I am afraid that even though I may feel this was beneficial and done out of love, and even though I felt or thought that the person I was showering all of this help and advice on certainly must have also felt that same way... I have come to realize that to think this is actually valued by the other person is incorrect. I have come to realize that what I am doing is actually overwhelming, suffocating, imposing my beliefs and ideals, monologue-ing, trying too hard to help and redirect and save someone from my pain and bad decisions... what is actually going on is that I have begun to relate to people in a very one-sided manner. In my belief that this is actually what being a friend is all about... being "helpful" to someone, being an "encouragement" to someone, feeling the compulsion to always help or be available to help someone on their journey... this is not really what being a friend is about. I have come to realize that I have absolutely no idea how to relate to people anymore. There have been some people I've met through the internet that in the deepest places of my heart I love and would lay my life down for them, but in doing so -- in offering too much I feel that I have actually turned them off. I had an experience recently with someone that I dearly love that I felt rejected by. Someone I had gotten to know through my blog and other social media that just pretty much stopped corresponding to me or responding to me at all, and then pretty much cut me off. I didn't understand why I was feeling so rejected but it hurt me to my core. I thought such crazy thoughts like maybe they thought my regular responses to their posts was me "stalking" them, or they felt smothered, or that they just didn't like who I was... the thought that they just didn't like me at all for who I was as a person just cut me to my very core. I realized that I must have made some mistakes along the way. Or then I thought, well, we are different, we don't have as much in common, or maybe I am not pretty enough, cool enough, whatever. You know, all the dross that surfaces when you've been rejected makes you feel like such a dork but the reality is, rejection brings out the absolute deepest insecurities of our hearts and causes us to seriously self examine. Here I am people, laid bare. I felt so absolutely sad and felt so stupid for feeling so sad. And then one morning I just broke. I had to let out all the things that were surfacing and put a name to the feelings and emotions and thoughts instead of internalizing them. I called someone and just had to talk. And I basically just sat on the phone with her for thirty minutes and cried my eyes out. This is probably the first time I have been vulnerable and broken with someone about something going on in my life in years. I realized that I have no close friends - not that I am sad about that at all, but just that I have no close friends because I am protecting myself. And if I open up to someone, I am more than willing and able to talk about my past. My past is something that I have learned to relate to people through. Maybe my identity is still wrapped up in it. The stories I have to tell are validated when they resonate with someone else. Maybe I am still so desperate for healing and validation that telling my story makes the reality of it sting less each time. There is so much pain that is soothed when someone affirms the place I have come from as meaningful to them I guess. They are things I've sort of figured out. The thing is I don't really know how to relate to people as far as my day to day life, my struggles, the things that I am going through RIGHT NOW... and yes, I am going through some very difficult things RIGHT NOW. My best guess is that there are people I have "befriended", subsequently smothered, proven that I do not know how to have a two-way relationship with, who have decided it's too much and sort of fallen off the face of the earth. I have learned to internalize so much because I have already had to hide so much of my life... I am a very analytical person anyway so I won't allow myself to proceed without having recognized/acknowledged/worked through stuff, but I don't know how to relate to people as far as that is concerned. The ponderings of my heart are complex and I think I am protecting myself from judgment and being hurt. And the exhaustion of regurgitating all that I think and feel. It doesn't make the fact that I desire community, friendship and mutual love, respect and admiration any less real. I do desire it. I just don't know how to do it. So the rejection feels so intense. 

I've been trying to figure out how I became the person that I am now. I have spent a lot of time thinking about this over the last few months. I am 33 years old. I am a grown woman. I have been a mother for twelve years, been divorced and remarried, made some seriously bad decisions in my life that have affected not only my life but the lives of others. I am still trying to repair my life from the cumulative effect of living so many years with so little concern for the consequences that would result. Some of these choices I share openly and some I have chosen to tell very few people about (and when I say few, I mean a few), and these same choices are known to hundreds and I am judged most harshly to this day because of them. Some of it is rightful/righteous judgment of the offense but not an accurate judgment of the woman I have become. I know and am sure there are people who look at me and see only my past sin, and think they know the me NOW by that sin. They filter me by that sin and write me off in their minds, sitting in a place of judgment over me constantly. "Well, she is just this... look at her." I feel like I experienced that just this week and it still hurts me. I am not that person anymore, but this is the consequence of sin. It follows you. I am sure Peter dealt with that his whole life. I am sure Paul dealt with this too. I am no Peter or Paul, but I am sure just as for me from time to time (or maybe more often) it kept them in a place of humility whether it was by the overwhelming understanding of God's mercy and love or because they had to dealt with the skeptics and doubters and scowls from time to time being in positions of leadership. Don't read me wrong, I am just trying to relate -- I don't consider myself a saint by any means. 

Anyway, so, something became very apparent to me recently. Well, I guess it wasn't recently. Maybe about this time last year I began to recognize something within myself... pride. We started going back to the church that Jason and I basically met through. We have a huge amount of history within this church. I can't nor will I go into detail because it is unnecessary at this point, and all water under the bridge as far as the church itself is concerned, but I will tell you that I walked through my divorce there, as well as made some choices within that body that affected other people pretty seriously. I don't need to add this but I will mention my deep regret for this. We eventually left there, as a couple, after coming together after I had been divorced from my son's Dad. The bottom line is so much of the ugly with me happened within the church. So much of my deepest, ugliest, most scandalous brokenness happened  within that community. I am sure many conclusions were drawn by folks who only "heard" what happened. This is not an accusation in any way, it is just a supposition on my part. It was a mess. Seven years later, we were led back to this same church community after a progression of healing and restoration and forgiveness. We chose to come back on our own and were blessed, received and embraced. We've been back now for over a year and I am starting to ask God why we're there. I am starting to get answers and it relates very much to all of what I am talking about right now. One Sunday after being back for a few months, there was a call for folks who needed ministry. This is a staple of their service that at the end of the service you have the opportunity to respond to the message and worship and receive prayer and ministry time. When I was there before I probably was up there every single service, on my face in a puddle of tears and snot. I had no shame, nothing held me back. I didn't care if I was up there every single time. I knew everyone knew my garbage and so what did I have to hide? Now, here we are... we're back there and we have our marriage of nearly seven years, our two children and Jason basically raising my son from my previous marriage. Everything is supposed to be great, stable, good, fine and wonderful. I am not allowed to be broken, struggling, or anything less than whole. Right? Yes. That is what I want them to see. I want them to see NO glimpse of the old Brooke. I want them to look at me and see NOTHING of the person I was. I don't want to look like her, be like her, smell like her, talk like her or behave like her. I cannot be broken. I cannot be unstable because if I am, then nothing has changed. I realized this when on this one Sunday, the call for those who needed ministry came, and my husband willingly went as he always does, and my pride put up a big wall and said "no, don't let them see". My pride (and/or shame) had or has become so big, that I am unwilling to let others in to see who I really am. I am still picking up the pieces of the past, how can I still be struggling so much now in what is supposed to be the great redemption of my life? The great redemption story of a redeemed life... I am supposed to be living out that story and yet here I am, I am still so broken, in so many ways. I am still so burdened. Every facet of our life we feel like we are fighting to just keep our heads above water. Our marriage is going through some struggles - we are very much committed and still love each other so much, we just having some difficult growing pains. We are broke, going back into debt and have very little hope for our future. We are having serious trouble with both of our cars. My oldest son's issues seem to be getting worse and I am not sure how to proceed to help him. My youngest two children - though precious and adorable - are wearing me out at this demanding stage of their lives. I have lost the drive and passion to do the things that I know make me come alive. I've stopped caring about my diet as much or sometimes even getting dressed in the morning. There are so many things I cannot begin to name. So I have gone into hiding. Hiding from the world, trying to save face, trying to keep up appearances. I didn't realize that I had done this. But I did. I am. And to be honest I am not sure yet that I want to come out. Or actually, I am not sure I even know how to come out of hiding. 

This is what I have concluded through all of this self-reflection. The way I've begun to relate to people is to not relate to them at all. Any friendships I try to cultivate lately are not real friendships at all, they must be just one sided efforts with me pouring out pouring out and then poof. It's over. And then that compounds the feelings of rejection and fear of vulnerability and transparency. Which causes me to want to hide even more. And it's not that I really even want friendships. I don't even have time. I don't even have to ability to do more than I have in front of me today, or plan date nights, or futures or things, so how on earth am I going to have time for relationships outside of my home?

When we went to the Phish show in August, I was dumped right back into the culture that had been my demise. I realized how much more uptight and reserved I had become. This is not a bad thing, it just is what it is. I am no longer the barefooted, free-spirited wildflower that I once was. I realized how I have distanced myself so much from that lifestyle that once defined me. This is both good and bad. Inside I long for freedom to live and have the hopes and dreams long desired fulfilled. The cynic in me makes fun of the cliche of the organic/free-spirited/earth loving/farm living folks, but inside I long for that. For us now all seems so distant and we are so mired in the day to day life we find ourselves in, we just don't understand or know when or how things will get better, and so we are restrained to doing things the way that we know we must. The "plan" is going to take so long, how will we ever really get there? And the obstacles so numerous, how will we overcome them? I don't know what the answer is. 

There is nothing more for me to say now. I have said what I needed to say. Here I raise my sort of Ebenezer... I know now that if I am to grow from this place (and there is no other choice but to grow) I need to invite God in and allow him to do whatever more healing he wants to do... to practice humility and vulnerability... that is one of my goals for this year... to practice openness... to get into community and be present and practice being real, open and honest, and to seek support and receive help when it is offered. Such an odd goal to be making, but here it is. I would love to be a part of some sort of meaningful community with meaningful relationships by this time next year... somewhere where I know I can be real about all the things about our life that are weighing us down and celebrate the victories and advances... somewhere where we can participate in something meaningful outside ourselves and for the benefit of other people which is ultimately what we want to do with our lives. 

I don't know what else to say, and frankly I need to get on with doing the laundry.

Thanks for reading. 

some disorganized thoughts on starting over

Right now, I am alone. For the most part. Jason has gone to pick up the straggler things left behind at his mother's house from Christmas (includes the dog). Noah and Shiloh are in the bed. Dakota is playing his XBOX. I am in the in between state of wanting to get comfortable and pour myself a martini, and having a head swimming with hormone fueled thoughts that beg to be written out. 

Can I just say - DAMN I am SO glad Christmas is over. Yes, I know I was really trying to be optimistic about everything. I mean, I tried to get into the holiday spirit as much as possible. I refused to bah humbug. I listened to Christmas music. I cried listening to Christmas music. I did Christmas crafts with my kids. We started a new tradition. But you know what? I still cannot shake the feeling of relief that I currently feel that now it's all over and I don't have to do any of this again for another 363 days. Christmas is not restful, quiet, or spiritual at all for me. It is about my children, and that's it. I am in kid hell right now - I have a two year old, a four year old, and a twelve year old who just entered the sixth grade who has special needs I have no idea how to meet... I am fumbling, I do not have any idea who I am or where I am going. I am just stumbling through the darkness of the uncharted waters of parenthood and trying to just make it to the next morning. As far as how this all relates to this particular Christmas, it was mostly good, except for the 396,758 meltdowns that my two year old had from lack of sleep due to his Christmas Day nap being interrupted by my oldest son who slammed doors thirty minutes into his nap... and my oldest having meltdowns on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day for a variety of reasons... I don't know. I don't want to relive any of it even for you, dear reader. I just put a slight damper on things and between that and other stupid crap the afternoon on Christmas Day was less than pleasant. It's just the age they're at I guess. Pfft. 

So now we are done with all the visiting and present getting and stuff and my front room is filled with toys and stuff. And all I want to do is take a box of contractor bags to my house. I am ready to purge. To clean and declutter. I have too much useless crap. I can't stand it. I am a tidy person but the mini piles of useless crap... stupid crap toys from kids meals and pens that don't work and toys that I keep around because I WANT them to like them but know they will never play with and are just taking up space... all the piles... THE PILES of clothes that I am sure if I had less of I would end up with less laundry as a result... ugggggh I just can't STAND it anymore and we just brought in so much more stuff!! Can you tell I am hormonal? Yes. Yes I am and I am on a mission. No more holding on to stuff to try to sell it. It's time to get it out of this house. Out!

I am looking forward to starting over... to a new year. This last year has been less than ideal. I don't want to be in the same place we're in now next year. I want things to be different. I don't have much to pray for. All I say is "please, God"... and trust he knows my desires. I am tired. I am worn thin. I don't even know what I want to do or what should be different but I want hope. I want to have hope again. I want to be able to say our dreams and desires are attainable and within reach. I want to be able to say things are better and that we are taking hold of our future and making it happen. I want more for my son and the courage to help him. I want to be in a better financial position than before. I want to have a plan to get back into a place with a yard... that's all I want - a yard where I can just put my kids out in it and let them be and grow some food and flowers. I want to be able to go away with my husband for a couple of nights WITHOUT the kids and recharge and regroup. So many things I long for... simple but seemingly so out of reach.

And I shall end this as abruptly as I began. It's time for me to be done with this and go have a drink. My honey is home now and it's getting late, and we're here, not somewhere else tonight. We're home. Together. And for now that's all I need.

salvaged + thoughts on dreaming

Saturday afternoon, I took Shiloh and Noah for a walk around the neighborhood. They've been cooped up in the house all week. It's been increasingly difficult to get out during the day with the current nap schedule at hand. Normally my mornings involve loading kids up to drop one or two of them off at school (depending on the day), getting home, intending on doing SOMETHING to get out and about, and before I know it, Noah is having a meltdown and it's naptime. The lovely time change we just went through didn't really help much either. So now he's tired earlier, and well, you know... So the story goes. 

So yeah. We've been feeling cooped up for the last few days. It was so nice yesterday, I thought I would just take the kids for a walk around the neighborhood and stop by the community garden to see if the few sweet potato plants I planted this past Spring would be worth digging up. Shiloh was riding her tricycle and I had the dog and Noah to manage, so the short walk to the community garden area seemed like a good stopping point to give them some space to roam, check on the sweet potatoes and see if my plot was getting any sun at all.

I have had a really hard time with the adjustment to gardening now that I don't have a yard of my own. In the Spring I was so excited about the option to have my own community garden space provided by the HOA here (for new-ish readers, we moved into a condo last December when we were scheduled for foreclosure on our home which thankfully we ended up selling). I planted a full garden there and -- long story short -- watched it do nothing because there was an exorbitant amount of shade from the surrounding trees. I mean, basically nothing grew. It was extremely depressing. So then I transplanted as much as I could into containers and tried growing stuff on my front patio. And hey! For what it was, some stuff grew... and it was better than what I would have gotten in the plot. Then come fall I spent money to amend the soil in my containers and then planted a fall greens crop... Well obviously the sun's position in the sky had changed. And my patio, walkway, everything I have access to is COMPLETELY SHADED. So nothing has been growing. Again. At all. So when I made it down to the community garden area and found my plot bathed in sunlight, my afternoon quickly changed course.

The kids enjoyed just poking around in that area... it's pretty safe and away from the road so they just played with sticks and ran around. I dug all the sweet potatoes out and moved all the leaves out of the bed. When the kids were done, we made the walk back up to the house, and then I proceeded to harvest the sweet potatoes I'd been growing in the containers since Spring, load up all the pots I had into the back of the 4Runner, and drive on down to try to transplant everything into the ground in the 20 minutes I had until I had to get ready for work. 

And that's what I did. I don't expect anything to really grow now that it's so cold, but the thing about greens like collards and kale and cabbage is that they survive the winters here in GA, and in the Spring they grow again and you can continue to harvest until it gets too hot and they bolt. I don't have a ton of stuff in the ground, but it's something... and as long as I am growing something and always learning, that's enough for me. 

 And just a side note, with the issues I've had with my garden this year, I've realized how much of who I have defined myself to be is wrapped up in that little hobby... not a HUGE part of who I am, but some, and it kinda hurt my pride -- all of these issues I've had this year and not having the kind of yield or success I've had in the past. It made me realize that once again, I was attaching some sort of identity to how successful my garden is, like it validates me in some way... This little hobby IS important to me, and I DO want to have each year better than the next - because I am wanting to learn more so that one day, if God provides a way for us, that we can have a much larger garden... maybe something that would feed more families other than just ours...

Which leads me to my next topic... something I've NOT been dealing with really -- hope deferred. Sometimes it is so much easier not to feel... just to keep plodding onward, instead of dealing fully with the reality of our existence and how it affects us deep down inside.

I've spoken a few times about the opportunity my husband has been given through his mentor to secure capital for a new company as a sort of investment broker. He has been successful at it, and the few commission checks we've received over the last year have been what we've lived on in conjunction with my income from the restaurant. It doesn't mean we have been super secure financially but it has taken the edge off. Wrapped up within this opportunity is a specific deal he helped bring to the table that involves a potentially significant investment, the commission from which would absolutely change our life. If the deal goes through, we would have more than enough to get our own place and start over - which is exactly what the goal was since moving in here. 

When I pray and ask God for this, my prayers are simple..., "Lord, bless the work of my husband's hands, bless Gary and Reva for their faithfulness, and Lord, PLEASE... please... I just want a yard." That's it. My dreams aren't very complex or self serving, I don't think. All I want is a home to settle down in, where I can get my son into a good school, have some yard that gets good sunlight to grow a nice sized garden in, have some chickens, and to just live. The American Dream, I guess. That's all. And the ability to go to the beach once a year, and drive to the mountains when we want to, etc. That's it. And I don't even ask for that. I just want a yard and that's it. We hope for land, maybe 3-5 acres. But I would be willing to settle for a yard at this point, just one to turn the kids out in. And I was kinda hoping this would happen by Summer so we could get Dakota out of his current school. 

This particular deal was looking very promising and looked to close before the end of the year. We were anxious and excited, hoping that would become a reality for us. We began to dream and plan a little. Then Hurricane Sandy happened, then more delays, then we got the news that this wasn't going to happen for 3-6 months. 

I shoved it off like it was no big deal. After all, when you live on commission only you stop getting excited anymore about the next big thing. I hate to say that, but it makes it easier when disappointment happens. But if I was honest with myself, I was truly disappointed, and when the disappointment would well up inside, I realized I really needed to process it and be honest with myself. What usually happens when things like this fall through, I start to think about Plan B and wonder how we can make our dreams happen any other way. It's totally possible. Except it means bag Plan A, which has so much time and energy invested in it, and doesn't really mean a long term future for us, rather is just a short term plan to get us more financially stable. We can't live here forever... 

To dream is to be vulnerable. It is to allow yourself to hope. And to hope is to be exposed, which can be very scary when you've had your hopes dashed over and over again. To be exposed means that we can choose whether or not to fall on God in our brokenness when this happens, or to stop feeling and stop being emotionally open. We can go either way and it will make all the difference. There is so much self examination going on lately about whether or not I am really learning all the God has for me to learn, whether or not I should even consider this a season - I mean, what if nothing ever changes? What if this is our life for good? What if the economy tanks again? What if there is nowhere to go but down? What can I do about any of this? It's completely out of my control. It is so hard... desiring something that you know is reasonable and good for your life and your family, and knowing that it may not ever happen... or if it does, it seems difficult to achieve. And I know I shouldn't expect things to miraculously happen... and that it is more than right to expect to have to work super hard for something, it's just daunting at this moment.

Anyway, I don't know if I am getting anywhere with this. I just wanted to share some of my thoughts with you about some of what I've been pondering lately. Things are okay, and God has been taking care of us, so I have no reason to believe that he won't continue to do so. And I am sure there is more that we can do to cut corners and be more frugal... sigh.

Thanks for readin'.

i am the autumnal sun

 Sometimes a mortal feels in himself Nature 

-- not his Father but his Mother stirs 

within him, and he becomes immortal with her

immortality. From time to time she claims 

kindredship with us, and some globule 

from her veins steals up into our own.

I am the autumnal sun,

With autumn gales my race is run;

When will the hazel put forth its flowers,

Or the grape ripen under my bowers?

When will the harvest or the hunter's moon

Turn my midnight into mid-noon?

I am all sere and yellow,

And to my core mellow.

The mast is dropping within my woods,

The winter is lurking within my moods,

And the rustling of the withered leaf

Is the constant music of my grief... 

(Henry David Thoreau)

the truth

It’s 10:23 PM. I just spent my first day off with my family in five days. I made a nice dinner. The kids were helyuns, but what else is new. I went through the motions of the day, being a mother and a wife, being a housekeeper and toy-putter-awayer. I didn’t do any laundry because my husband really did most of that…  I felt thankful for a “normal” day, where I was home to make dinner, serve dinner, help with the children getting them bathed and ready for bed and tucked in bed. These little things are treasured now that I am home so little for them, when once they were laborious and somewhat loathsome at times.

I went to church this morning. I fell apart at church this morning. Pretty much like I do every Sunday I am there. I just completely fall apart. It doesn’t matter if the sermon was relevant or not, although most of the time it is. It doesn’t matter if the “worship was good” or someone “gave me a word” or whatever. All it takes is feeling safe for one moment. And the flood gates open up. I feel sort of embarrassed. The older I have become the more I worry about how this may appear to people. Because I sort of went through my lowest times in that church, I don’t want to appear weak and broken, but I want to appear stronger and more “together”… I guess I want it to seem like I am better than I was then… stronger. But the love of God disarms me. All my walls fall down.  The frustration, depression, sadness, angst and fear that has been building up inside me, looking for a way out via my flesh comes out in a torrent of tears.

The truth is, maybe I just seem like a big fat wuss or complainer or something here. Maybe you get tired of my bellyaching. But this is my space, and so I am going to just be honest and process all of my thoughts here and be as real as I can be because I don’t have any reason to pretend for any of you that my life is perfect. It’s not perfect. There are elements that are very sound and solid and good, and those include my marriage and my family. We do have major problems that can take days to recover from, and when I am in a funk it doesn’t help. But we always come through because we just LIKE each other that much. I don’t want to be distant from my BFF and that’s it. But the funk lately has been persistent. I have just come to the conclusion that I am not happy. I am not happy and that’s it. I do not experience happiness as a theme in my life. I believe that part of it is related to the change in our routine over the last few months with Jason working days and me working nights, separation from my children and the guilt that I feel and simply feeling very alone and distant from any existing friendships. I believe the uncertainty of our future, our financial future and all of the dreams we still have that seem so unattainable is weighing on my hope. I do not smile too often. When I wake up in the morning I look like I have been in a fight. I feel older, weaker, and just downcast. I feel a huge amount of pressure and intensity and I have found myself thinking thoughts and reminiscing about behaviors long buried. That is just the truth. I felt the Holy Spirit affirm that all of these thoughts were just because I was feeling so much pressure and stress, that I was looking for a way out, and that the enemy was using that vulnerability to try to derail me in a way that would achieve his ultimate goal which is to distract and destroy my life. That it was okay, he was here to comfort and hold me and give me a safe place to fall apart. And I experienced that today. But even then I have felt distant from God in the last few weeks. Not because of him, but because of me and this funk that I can’t seem to shake. 

And tonight, I don't have any kind of conclusion. No revelation, no closing thoughts. Just a confession. I don't know how to get out. I think I do... more time in the woods, take my supplements, eat better... keep things in perspective. I KNOW these things will help me. They have in the past and I can do it now, I just need to do it. And more time with God. I know he is a safe place and he loves me. And I can fall apart on him. 

Thanks for reading. 

bloggy-blog all stars: repost # 2: the power of acceptance from 10/11

Hey friends! I thought as part of my posts this week I would include a few reposts of YOUR favorite blog posts I've ever put up here. 

One of the most loved posts I ever shared was "The Power of Acceptance". I wrote this very candidly about some of my past and the things I was struggling with about what was facing us in our immediate future. It is pretty raw. It's good for me to see how far we've come. I hope it'll mean something to you to read it and connect with this space. 

Published on October 25, 2011

ac·cept

 verb \ik-ˈsept, ak- also ek-\

Definition of ACCEPT

transitive verb

1

a : to receive willingly ;accept a gift;b : to be able or designed to take or hold (something applied or added);a surface that will not accept ink;

2

: to give admittance or approval to; accept her as one of the group;

3

a : to endure without protest or reaction; accept poor living conditions;b : to regard as proper, normal, or inevitable;the idea is widely accepted;c : to recognize as true : believe; refused to accept the explanation;

4

a : to make a favorable response to; accept an offer;b : to agree to undertake (a responsibility); accept a job;

5

: to assume an obligation to pay; also : to take in payment; we don't accept personal checks;

6

: to receive (a legislative report) officially

intransitive verb

: to receive favorably something offered —usually used withof; a heart more disposed to accept of his — Jane Austen;

When I hit 25, I subsequently hit a wall. I was not making great decisions. I was dating Jason, We were desperately in love, but we were exactly living "right", or treating each other with much respect and our relationship was getting rockier. I was struggling between not wanting to be a part of the system, but knowing that I DID eventually want stability in my life, and have the house and the kids and all that. But I'd just left all that behind the year before, including my son for about six months (I let him go live with his Dad, and his Dad turned around and took him out of state... loooong story, very painful, I probably WON'T tell you about it sometime...lots of shame... but anyway). After my divorce, I sold my house very quickly and moved in with my Mom for six months, then into my own place near her for six months, and then moved yet AGAIN, this time to the city, where I lived in an amazing apartment in Buckhead (north of downtown Atlanta, but in the city), surrounded by wonderfully giving and precious gay men, who watched over me and took care of me....

During that year that I lived in that apartment, everything changed for me. It was an incredibly tumultuous year, struggling with my ex, the situation with my son, the situation with my living situation - can I say "situation" any more? It ended beautifully because I made GOOD choices - and Jason and I ended up engaged, my son came back, etc. Part of what helped me was that I sought counseling from this guy that had worked with my Mom for years, and with me and my ex for a time when we were trying to work through some hard stuff. He's really cut and dried, and will tell it to you straight. This was a different kind of counseling than I had sought before. In the past I'd gone to a Christian counselor who had helped me work through some spiritual issues, but what I was dealing with couldn't have been handled by one of those guys. I needed tough love from a native Italian New Yorker who could set me straight and help me get my head in the game, so that I could be sure my future was ultimately what I wanted it to be, and not the result of more bad and reckless choices rooted in a desire to be outside of the system, off the grid, out of the mainstream... basically I just wanted to smoke pot and be a flower child forever, but I realized I was growing up and needed to act like it, and I needed Jesus, and I needed to be a good Mom, and I needed to figure out this relationship with Jason because I loved him and I didn't want to lose him.

So, let me cut to the chase. 

Ed (my therapist, counselor, what-have-you - and I get all warm and fuzzy when I think of him) taught me about the power of acceptance. And he taught me about the power of making RIGHT choices. 

First - he taught me that I cannot waste any more energy trying to change, or experiencing anxiety and inner turmoil about, the things that I CANNOT CHANGE. Those things that are beyond my power to control, I need to release them BY ACCEPTING THEM. This is a universal truth and act that the result of which allows the subject of your anxiety to be subject to the consequences of itself in the universe (and I promise I am not being new agey, just hear me out...)... the universal/Biblical law of reaping and sowing... when we interfere by enabling something or someone, trying to change something or someone, we are actually keeping it from being subject to the thing that will shape it, mold it, cause it to experience the ripple effect of it's own existence, and thereby changing accordingly. 

When I failed to accept my ex for who he was, all of the good and the bad, etc (I won't say more than this, I want to be respectful), and failed to accept him, just as he was, not only was I personally bound up by fear and anxiety, but he was not totally subject to the result of his own choices in the spiritual realm. 

When I failed to accept myself, and the choices I had made that led me to the place where I was, I was unable to grow and move forward. This is otherwise known as DENIAL. Somehow within denial, we still strive and struggle, we don't completely ignore the thing we're denying, we still wake up and look at it like it just appeared there that morning, and we hadn't seen it before, and start trying to do the same thing over and over to make it go away, or cope with its existence, or whatever. It makes us look like we're not in denial about it, but really we are. 

However...

When we accept something/someone/something about someone:

We make a full and comprehensive evaluation of that person, good, bad, ugly, etc. We say, I don't want to change you, You are who you are, I accept you. I do not want to change you. I do not want you to change you. I release you, and simulaneously receive you unto myself, as you are, complete, whole, flaws, perfections, all of it. 

When we do the same with a situation versus a person, we examine everything that led us here, we step back, make a review of every detail, we check our emotions at the door, yet still acknowledge that they're there... and we realize that we are powerless to do anything about the past; the cumulative result of events, the history that is the now, and we breathe it in, breathe it out - it is what it is. 

So why am I saying all of this?

I think that one of the hardest things I am working through right now is just coming to a place of acceptance of things and people in my life... not trying to change them or the circumstances, not trying to cause something to be something it's not, just accepting it. I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW that if I can do this, I will have less anxiety, less frustration with myself and others, a greater level of contentment, allow myself to remain in the moment every moment of every day, and so on. 

In conjunction with this, as mentioned earlier, if the situation is something that I want to see change in, I ought to make RIGHT decisions, to ensure that the future - which is always a cumulative result of all of our choices - looks the way I intended it to look (free will) and is in accordance with God's will (which I believe is the path of peace... the wisdom of God brings peace).

So....

Here is a laundry list of things I am working on accepting right now:

1. We are going to be moving soon. Either we're going to lose our house, or sell it. Our kids and family will be uprooted. We'll be out of our comfort zone, as will the kids. This is going to be hard. It's going to happen. 
2. My son is different. I need to think in terms of a parent of an Asperger's child, and stop trying to fit him into the mold of a neurotypical child, accepting him for who he is.
3. It is less important for my house to be spotless than it is for me to spend quality time with my children. The house can wait.
4. It is less important for me to work on my blog or my shop than for me to spend quality time with my husband late at night. The blog and the shop can wait.
5. My ex may never change. Must learn how to pray for him. 
6. I may never ever have all the laundry done at once. I may always have two or three loads in flux at any given time. It doesn't matter - I need to accept that it doesn't matter. 
7. I may never be a B cup again. Yes, I am an A cup again, haven't been that since HIGH SCHOOL. Thank you, 40 months of breastfeeding, and to my babies for sucking the very life out of my boobs. 
8. I cut all my hair off. I did it. It's done. Time to accept it - stop mourning it, and be patient because IT WILL GROW. 
9. I cannot eat like a bird every single day. It's not realistic. 
10. It is going to be uber stressful and hard on days when I am home with the kids alone without Jason. Need to accept this and learn how to cope.
11. The floors will never be perfectly clean. There will always be dog hair everywhere.
12. My skin will never be perfectly clear no matter how old I get.
13. And speaking skin, the wrinkles have made their debut. It's all downhill from here. Beauty is fleeting. Accept it.
14. Must accept that my husband processed and works through things differently than I do. Not at my speed, not even close to the same way. His way is not wrong. It is what it is. The result is good.
15. This blog/etsy shop thing may take a looooong time to grow. Patience. 
16. Things may get worse before they get better. One day at a time.

What are you working on accepting?

Love, Brooke

what I've learned: reflections on a year of blogging

It's almost 7AM. I am sitting here somewhat blank -- not sure why, I guess maybe this isn't the post I want to be writing at this hour. Yesterday we went on a little teeny hike with all the babies on their feet instead of in packs, and I really want to share those photos and those words. But alas, this post has been in the works for days inside my head, and I fear if I don't get it out soon, I am going to lose it. And I have the time now. And so it goes. 

September of last year... not long after I started this blog. 

So.... blogging. Gosh, I mean, I started this blog last September 4th. I had it long before then, though. I started a blog back when I was on maternity leave with Shiloh. I had no idea about the blogging community then, I just wanted a place to collect and document all of my creative ventures. When things started to get really pressing and difficult for us last Fall, I needed more of a place where I could write and connect with people about where we were at that time. So I resurrected my blog. And I saw it as a long term business venture as well - I won't beat around the bush. Starting my blog AND my vintage "stuff" business was something I knew would take a long time to build, but at that time we were really falling off the cliff financially and I needed some kind of hope. 

Blogging was a vehicle to that hope. 

It sounds funny. But it was, and it has been. Blogging about my fears, frustrations and worst moments, my best moments, triumphs and breakthroughs - those have connected me with people who have been not only an encouragement and inspiration, who gave the the "oomph" I needed to press on, but also with those who were going through similar situations... it made me feel for the first time that though I was feeling so alone in my life and relationships here, out there in the world there were people I could connect with in a profound way who could say, "yep, I know what you're going through". People that, even though we may only ever communicate via email, text or Facebook, I have legitimate relationships with; people I call friends, who I can reach out to and know they're there when I just need to "hear" the voice of a friend. 

Given the cliche that exists among bloggers, that "blogging is an outlet"... I guess I really don't want to use that phrase, but it has been a place for me to get my thoughts out about some hard issues and actually process them as I do through writing. I am sure without it, I may not have been able to clear my mind, gain the perspectives of others, or had the chance to go back on my writing in order to gain even more clarity.

Over this last year of course, I have struggled with trying to find my identity as a blogger, simply because I see so many folks doing so many different things, I guess I feel compelled to also do those things in order to "grow my blog" or be like someone else who is successful in order to be successful myself. And I've realized that this is just not what I am here for. I don't enjoy doing anything else than ... well, what I enjoy. 

I've learned that I am not...

• a DIY blogger
• a recipe blogger
• a mommy blogger
• a crunchy mommy blogger, at that (even though I am crunchy in my own, special way)
• a person who is overly concerned about conveying my personal image over my content - photos on a post are sometimes an afterthought...
• a person who takes a lot of pictures of themselves and posts them on her blog
• a style blogger who wants everyone to see what I wear everyday or when I put together a cute outfit (even though I feel like I have my own unique style, just not something I am paassionate about)
• a thrifty blogger, although that is a priority and a necessity at times, more times it gives me a rush to be thrifty...

In a nutshell, there are so many labels just floating around waiting for me to grab one and apply all of its characteristics to my blog, and frankly, I am not interested in such a thing.

I've become comfortable with letting my blog be exactly what it has become: a reflection of who I am, what I am going through and my day to day life experiences. 

I will write long posts. I know that statistically less people will finish them than if I write short posts. I guess I am not sorry, because I am writing from a deep place that doesn't cater to the number of readers who will finish it - because I know that the folks who finish it are the ones I will connect with over that post, and that is what really matters to me. That is what's of value to me. 

I will post a million pictures in one post. Because I can, and because I love taking pictures. I may not have the best camera, skills or time to edit, but when life happens and I am happy about it, I want you all to know all about it. All of it. Every shot of it. And I do love photography, but sometimes I am just slinging my camera around while it's still hanging on my shoulder trying to capture some kid doing something precious, and I don't have a lot of time to frame the shot just the way I want to. 

long September shadows... 2011

I have big dreams for this space, dreams that may or may not even be achievable, given my resistance to doing things "the right way". I pray for influence, and ask the Lord for the ability to change people's lives with the ability to take a fledgling business or blog and give it exposure on my blog, and dramatically change that person's life. I pray for the ability to provide for my family outside of working every night at the restaurant - between my business and my blog. And I know there is a LOT of work to be done with both. I dream of being able to help people, not just myself, with my voice here on the internet... I don't think those dreams and desires are things that his heart is far from... so I hope that it'll happen one day. But for now I am just going to keep pressing on.

I want to thank those of you who are here, now. It means so much to me to have your support and readership. I hope you'll continue with me on this journey as I share my life, struggles, victories, heartache and joy. 

Love Brooke

what the Proverbs 31 woman doesn't tell you...

This was my dining room table yesterday afternoon around 2:15PM. 

This picture perfectly captures the struggle of the day to day for us mothers who both work and stay at home with our children... trying to meet their needs and keep them challenged and creative while trying to keep our households and business affairs in order.

I am feeling a little overwhelmed the last few days... there are so many irons on the fire here at our house. 

I have been working every day this week. I leave at 3, so I try to pack as much as I can get done into the morning/early afternoon hours. 

The house is a mess. We've done the laundry but it never got folded. The floors are horrendously dirty and need a sweep and hand mop. The bathroom needs cleaning. The bedrooms need cleaning. 

Kids need baths. 

My oldest son has been having a pretty rough week and we discovered that he was already failing two classes, and it appears that he is having a hard time adjusting to middle school. I have mentioned this before but for those who don't know, he is most definitely on the Spectrum, most likely Asperger's... we treat severe distractability and impulsivity with med used to treat ADHD... and it appears he is really not adjusting to all the additional sensory and logistical changes. This has been a big stressor this week, making calls to teachers and counselors, to Dakota's dad, and to the homeschool people, trying to decide how to "solve" this particular problem. 

Taxes are coming due.

Jason has some really big possibilities coming up with work...

I have my shop to think about - so much inventory to add and no time. Trying to find a balance with that...

And Bethel - Jason and I started a 2 year intensive Bible study called Bethel and we have soooo much reading to do... getting up at 6:00AM is just going to have to become the new normal... even earlier probably, to get it all done.

I feel like working less will solve the issues with Dakota in some way. I need to be home with him more so I can help him after school. I feel so disconnected from him and when there is all this struggle I really want to be there as much as I can. 

Just feeling a little overwhelmed with everything on my plate right now... as a mother, as a wife... as a homemaker. In every way. 

What the Proverbs 31 woman doesn't tell you is that she has to get up before the sun comes up because there's just not enough time to get anything done!