Change, Uncomfortable Change....

I'm in transition again.

If you've had a baby, you know what I mean - it's that brief period of time before delivery where you shake, maybe vomit, and cry and scream at your companions: "I CAN'T DO IT!" 

That is the precise moment when one of the nurses knowingly nods her head and says: "She's in transition.  It won't be long, now."

Since I've had 5 natural births, I have to admit that when my last child was born (at home, unassisted) I recognized transition when it came.  No one had to tell me: "It's okay, sweety, you're almost there, you're just in transition." Likewise, I recognize that the transition I am experiencing now, though not about to result in natural birth, is just part of the process in the season of life that I'm currently experiencing.

The good thing is: the very nature of transition is change.
The bad thing is: the very nature of transition is change.
(Transition is hard, but can produce good results!)

If you are in a place of transition, you know that you can't stay there forever, but it involves a lot of shifting and stretching and pain as you adjust and grow into your next phase.  Change is good, but it means you have to deal with being in the uncomfortable and unfamiliar for a while before you come to the place of fulfillment. 

When it comes down to it, we usually fear and resist change because of the stress that it brings.

So let me be brutally honest.

I cried when I was painting the walls of my bedroom, feeling overwhelmed with the thought of needing to clean up our "new house" and sell it, and move again, for the second time in a year.
I got angry as I packed boxes and sifted through junk in my garage - thinking... didn't I just do this?
And I continually feel exhausted with the fiasco of house-selling: clean it, leave it, show it, repeat.

There are some days when I feel like I'm drowning in the stress of not being able to live a normal life.
However, even though I have my momentary lapses of insanity, and like a woman in labor I want to scream and swear and exclaim "I CAN'T DO IT!", I also have a sense that my perspective could be different.

I don't want to survive this season... I want to thrive.
I want to find joy in the journey.

The solution, as far as I know, is found in acceptance, hope, and the most sustaining of all: peace.

When you're in labor, a good trick is to tell yourself: "I just have to get through this contraction..." and you do your best to breathe deep and survive the tension of that moment, knowing that there will be a short rest period when the contraction is over.  But you MUST NOT think about the next 10 or 20 or 30 contractions - that is where panic sets in and you have no idea how you'll survive!  This outlines the "acceptance" part of my solution.  I just have to get through today, and I want to do today well.  I don't have to think about how long this process will be - in fact that would probably be detrimental to my state of mind!  So I do my best with today, and look forward to those moments of calm that come like a cool breeze on a blistering hot summer day.

Then there's the factor of hope.  What is coming, and what you will accomplish when you reach "the other side" of transition is more important than the "when" - especially when there are circumstances beyond your control.  There are a lot of aspects of my life which I am unable to control right now, and no matter how much I stress about it - it just won't change!  So I focus on the future.  I allow myself to visualize the future, knowing that "this too shall pass" and I have hope.  Just like an expectant, laboring mother knows that the baby can't "stay in there forever", I know that I won't be in this season forever.

Lastly, but most importantly, I have to give credit to the intangible, and often unexplainable sense of peace.  Philippians 4:6 & 7 describes peace as "a sense of God's wholeness... (that) will come and settle you down".  I don't know where I'd be without my random, on-the-spot 10 second bursts of prayer; those moments where I know I've come to the end of all reason and I need something-Someone bigger than myself to sweep in and assure me that I'm gonna make it.  God's peace can bring calm in the worst of situations.  His kind of peace brings resolve that "everything is going to be okay", even if you have no idea HOW it will work out.

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. (MSG)

I know that life will look radically different 6 months from now, and there's sure to be a new set of adventures for me to chronicle and blog about.  If anything, a life full of transitions signifies growth and an adventurous life.  I can't deny the fact that I'm an adventure seeker - and history speaks for itself.  Given the fact that my life will probably never be "normal", I'm on a quest to travel well - to grow in each challenge, and let this journey shape me, not break me.

New Season

-17*C and so much snow!

On a day like today, I actually started browsing the "last minute vacation deals" on various websites, feeling that if I could just find the right deal, I could fly my family (six kids and all) to a warm, tropical, white sand beach where we could relax and soak up some sun.  Pushing the fantasy aside, I instead browned chicken in a large stainless steel pot, preparing a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs stew for our family's dinner tonight.

Since I don't have an extra $7000 sitting around for an impromptu getaway, I could turn up the heat and the kids and I could get out our favorite summer shorts and tank tops.  Better yet, as an overt denial to this wretchedly bone-chilling weather, I could just prance around outside in a sundress, shake my fist at the falling snowflakes and scream out: "Winter, be gone!!!"

Okay, that would be some serious denial.  And I might freak out the neighbors... and my children.  (My husband? ...not so much!) 

Reality and circumstances dictate that I accept the changing of seasons - my very life depends upon it (unless I want to die of hypothermia).

For many months now, I've been struggling to return to the blogosphere and write about my feelings, revelations, activities and life-lessons.  Since the late summer, I've even had the same theme in my mind of a blog that I wanted to write, entitled "sabotage".  I wanted to express how we, ourselves can sabotage our personal success and even emotional health by making poor or negative choices.  For example (one of the easiest to pick on) is eating unhealthy.  You know that you "should" eat a variety of fruits and vegetables, and not fill yourself up on cheese puffs and Mars bars, but you give in continually and end up tired, sick, and overweight.

For me, the idea of sabotage came with the realization that I am personally responsible for much of my success in life.  I make choices that influence my emotions, physical health and spiritual health.  If I dwell in the past failures or frustrations or hurts, I may very well be sabotaging my ability to enter into happiness.  I could become fixated on how weary I felt last winter, and expect this winter to be a repeat of that unhappiness. 

At the beginning of this post, I talked about the need to accept when a season is changing.  You can't live the exact same way in the winter as you did in the summer.  You have to get the shovel out of the garage, put on some tall boots and mitts and deal with the snow.  (Or, be like a teenager I know and wear a stylish coat and cute little shoes with no socks and look pretty while being cold!)

I've been sensing for my life, with this new year, that I'm entering a new season.  I'll admit it - the last few years have been filled with some incredible challenges - renovations, new baby, living with relatives, pastoring a church, trying to homeschool, and being iron deficient!  We entered into a time of major transition this fall and had a flurry of activity as we scrambled to complete renovations on our house, sell it and move back to the 'big city' for my husband's new job.  Now that the dust is beginning to settle, I'm getting the feeling that I should expect life to be different.  Of course we live in a different house, are attending a different church and are seeing different friends - that's not what I'm talking about.  I'm talking about my expectations and hopes and my emotional outlook.  I sense a new season in life... where I don't have to expect most days to be a struggle, but where I can enjoy the tasks I have at hand instead of dreading them and feeling exhausted.

A changing of seasons requires a change of mindset. 

"Onward and upward!"
-C.S.Lewis The Horse and His Boy

Grocery Store Grief

I felt at least half a dozen pairs of eyes on me as I struggled to make it through the self-checkout today at the store.  Two little boys proved to be just too much on this mid-afternoon, should be nap-time and there's-no-more-cookies-to-bribe-with shopping trip.  With exasperation, I roughly and sternly shoved my two-year-old back into his seat in the cart for the fourth time since I started to check out my groceries.  One more can scanned, then I whipped myself around and grabbed my toddler's sweater to keep him from tumbling out of the cart.

Caught in the moment; just trying to purchase some food, I barely noticed the smiling clerk as she took a moment to talk with my busy three year old and answer his question: "Excuse me... are clocks expensive?"

"Ummm.  Yes." she replied seriously, and then listened patiently as he explained all the things he wanted to do and to receive on his upcoming birthday.  That was nice of her.

But I was trapped in my own little cycle - raging war against the most determined, stubborn, grumpy, acrobatic two-year-old that I've ever given birth to... my challenging last-born child who keeps me on my toes as I protect him from himself. (Like all the times he finds knives on the countertop and plays with them... or found a wineglass, broke it, and then cut himself trying to fill it with water... all by climbing up on the counter.)

I felt like racing out of the store, strapping both kids in the van and just screaming for a moment or two - and then maybe I would pick up a self-medicating Caramel Latte at Starbucks, but I needed these groceries! Not only that, but I couldn't slow down - there were people behind me and it was taking so long; this tango - back and forth of scanning an item, then turning and dealing with my toddler - and I was going to be late to pick up my older kids!

Eventually... finally, I swiped my credit card on the pay pass scanner, pushed my toddler back onto his bottom in the proper seat, called to my wandering three-year-old and we raced out of the store to load the groceries and hopefully not be more than a few minutes late to pick up the other children.

Sigh... it seems that in this season of life, so many of my days are like this.  I read the magazines and books and listen to other mothers speak on encouraging programs such as Focus On The Family, and they tell me: "Simplify! Slow down! Take time for yourself!" but all the advice in the world can't seem to give me the steam I need to accomplish the necessary and I am caught in this hurried whirlwind of life, watching the pages of the calendar flip before my eyes in fast-forward.

In the end, after the groceries were mostly unpacked and the perishables were put away and the banana peels littered the dining room table and the little kids were put into their beds so Mommy could have a quiet-time, I realized that I forgot something.  Maybe I could have asked for help?  No... I don't mean I should have turned around to the customer behind me and asked them to watch my kids for a minute while I scanned my groceries, although it may have worked, considering there were a lot of seniors shopping that afternoon and they always seem intent on chatting with my kids (even when I'm in a hurry).  But that's not what I'm talking about... something - or maybe Someone - was trying to remind me that a simple heartfelt prayer, such as "HELP!" and turning my focus heavenward to a God who cares about even the little things, could make a difference in my day. 

It's easy to feel alone in your struggles when you are the one with the unending list that won't change until your kids grow up and leave home.  Even after that milestone, I imagine, there are hurries, worries and stresses that can plague you and leave you emotionally harried.  I guess what we (what I) need to remember is that you don't have to do it all on your own.  God's love is like a reassuring hand on the shoulder, a gentle reminder that His faithfulness will not fail and that his mercy is freshly available like each new day when the sun slips up and over the horizon.  Life may not change significantly when a prayer is offered up in desperation - it doesn't mean that the laundry will be magically folded, dinner will be on the table and an angelic being will come down and scrub your toilets for you.  However, I believe that with the asking, and with the acknowledgement of a need for God's presence, there will be a provision of strength for the day.  Like manna from heaven, God's provision is usually just enough, just on-time and leaves you still needing Him when you wake up the next morning.

Naptime is about to be over.  Dinner is yet to be made.  The house is a mess.  Okay, I can easily acknowledge that I'm not on top of my game.  So... here goes...

God...please help me.