Having a toddler and another child on the way, I have begun to think about how I am going to explain certain things to them as they grow and begin to question this world. I remember having these questions or thoughts myself and not understanding why my parents handled it the way they did, whether ignoring the question or just saying, "You will understand when you are older." For instance, one day my sister was playing some songs out of a "pop hits" book on the piano. When she played the theme from "Schindler's List" I just loved it. I looked at the title and asked my parents what that was and if I could see it. I was probably 11 or so at the time. The only response I received was a sarcastic laugh and "You won't be watching that for many years yet." When I asked why, I was stared at with unknowing looks, and then they continued with their day.
I once saw a movie (which, I do not remember) where a little girl asked her parents about sex; they explained it as every woman having a garden and some day a man will pick the flower from her garden, etc., so then this girl grew up and was obsessed with keeping a garden, even long after being married. I know the day will come when my oldest asks his first question that will throw me for a loop. What I will say at that moment, I do not know. All I know is that I want to somehow tell my kids the truth, shelter them from the painful things in life (such as what "Schindler's List" is), and yet not confuse them with my answer. But is that even possible? How much sheltering is too much? How much truth can be told without creating scars?
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Post Reactions
I seem to be failing at writing frequently, despite how well I was doing before. So, now my entries might be a little random, if not just to get me to write down anything to get into the swing of it all.
Half of the time on Facebook, I cannot help but laugh at someone's response to one of my status updates. Whether at my step-grandmother who seems to leave me odd messages that have nothing to do with the post or at people who think that I am completely serious when I am really being ironic, goofy, or simply showing my lack of concentration (thank you, placenta-brain; truly, I was passing along an easy, three-step recipe to a friend earlier and couldn't remember the word "clove" while referencing garlic). No wonder I use so many emoticons when chatting with people; apparently my personality doesn't come out in my keystrokes!
Half of the time on Facebook, I cannot help but laugh at someone's response to one of my status updates. Whether at my step-grandmother who seems to leave me odd messages that have nothing to do with the post or at people who think that I am completely serious when I am really being ironic, goofy, or simply showing my lack of concentration (thank you, placenta-brain; truly, I was passing along an easy, three-step recipe to a friend earlier and couldn't remember the word "clove" while referencing garlic). No wonder I use so many emoticons when chatting with people; apparently my personality doesn't come out in my keystrokes!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Transition and Trials
Much has been on my mind lately. This time in my life seems to be full of transitions and some trials. The transitions are mainly my getting ready for the new baby, adjusting to the deployment, being a single mom (temporarily), and STILL adjusting to a new country. My son is in some sort of almost-two-years-old transition; his sleep is all over the place, as is his behavior.
Aside from the mass collision of all these things together, I feel like I am being tested. Upon moving to the new base, I have been unsuccessful in finding a church that meets my spiritual needs. Because of this, I have not been attending regular services, but have only been to a women's Bible study on a regular basis. And because of that, I have not exactly been tithing, though I was relieved when they finally started collecting offering at the study. In both instances I feel pressed to adjust myself; ironically enough, it feels like the higher priority is toward service attendance. Perhaps it is because in my heart I do not disagree with tithing, but I find it ridiculous to attend a service that does not feed me spiritually. On top of that, with my husband deployed and childcare constantly full (seriously), I am always in the cry room with my son; there is no way he will sit quiet and still in a pew, even for a 45 minute service. The speakers in that room do not work, meaning if you are in there you do not even hear the service unless the kids are super quiet, both in voice and with toys, and you can keep the door open, at which point even then you have to strain to hear every word. Of the...oh, possibly seven or so services I have attended, only two of them was I able to be part of the congregation. Ironically enough, the feeling of being cut off is reinforced by the fact that the ushers completely pass up the cry room, whether collecting offering or passing out communion. I have to stand out the door, making sure my son doesn't bolt, money in hand, and waving to be able to pay my tithe.
Nursery opens 15 minutes before the service starts. Last week I managed to leave early with the idea that my arriving just as the service was starting was why childcare was always full. I arrived 10 minutes prior to the service, and they were already full! See? I am getting fired up about it all over again! *breathe* My friend arrived, daughter also in tow due to the full nursery. Shocked that we could not hear anything in the cry room and a full day ahead of her, she decided to leave and get her shopping done instead of just sitting in the room. I wanted to follow her so much! "The speakers don't work?" No. "So we can't even hear the sermon?!" Nope. "It's kind of pointless to stay, isn't it?" *facepalm* Yet I felt pulled to stay, just as I had felt pulled to come. The whole time I felt myself grumbling inside, and the whole time I tried to stop it. There is a reason I am here. There is a reason He wants me to stay. I may not know it and I may not understand it, but it is there nonetheless. At this, I simply tried to hear and enjoy what I could. I paid my offering, I took communion, and I left while they were singing the closing hymn so I could get out of the parking lot before it was overrun with children.
These are definitions of "slack" from webster.com:
"Slack (verb)--to shirk or evade work or duty"
"Slack (adj)--not using due diligence, care, or dispatch : negligent
--lacking in completeness, finish, or perfection
I know that I have definitely evaded attending service regularly, using excuses like "I lost track of the time/days," "Nursery is always full," "I never learn anything," "I don't feel like it," "[Child] is having a bad day," and "I can learn more by simply reading my Bible at home." Hebrews 10:25 tells us not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together: I would call that a duty, and I have failed. I have not been diligent at all, which I find somewhat funny considering I used to wonder how people could seriously just not realize it was Sunday and thus miss the service. I used to count the days until the next service, I loved it that much! I guess I am not as faithful as I thought, seeing as how it seems most of my motivation was for personal gain and pleasure and not to glorify God.
...and that realization hurts...
Aside from the mass collision of all these things together, I feel like I am being tested. Upon moving to the new base, I have been unsuccessful in finding a church that meets my spiritual needs. Because of this, I have not been attending regular services, but have only been to a women's Bible study on a regular basis. And because of that, I have not exactly been tithing, though I was relieved when they finally started collecting offering at the study. In both instances I feel pressed to adjust myself; ironically enough, it feels like the higher priority is toward service attendance. Perhaps it is because in my heart I do not disagree with tithing, but I find it ridiculous to attend a service that does not feed me spiritually. On top of that, with my husband deployed and childcare constantly full (seriously), I am always in the cry room with my son; there is no way he will sit quiet and still in a pew, even for a 45 minute service. The speakers in that room do not work, meaning if you are in there you do not even hear the service unless the kids are super quiet, both in voice and with toys, and you can keep the door open, at which point even then you have to strain to hear every word. Of the...oh, possibly seven or so services I have attended, only two of them was I able to be part of the congregation. Ironically enough, the feeling of being cut off is reinforced by the fact that the ushers completely pass up the cry room, whether collecting offering or passing out communion. I have to stand out the door, making sure my son doesn't bolt, money in hand, and waving to be able to pay my tithe.
Nursery opens 15 minutes before the service starts. Last week I managed to leave early with the idea that my arriving just as the service was starting was why childcare was always full. I arrived 10 minutes prior to the service, and they were already full! See? I am getting fired up about it all over again! *breathe* My friend arrived, daughter also in tow due to the full nursery. Shocked that we could not hear anything in the cry room and a full day ahead of her, she decided to leave and get her shopping done instead of just sitting in the room. I wanted to follow her so much! "The speakers don't work?" No. "So we can't even hear the sermon?!" Nope. "It's kind of pointless to stay, isn't it?" *facepalm* Yet I felt pulled to stay, just as I had felt pulled to come. The whole time I felt myself grumbling inside, and the whole time I tried to stop it. There is a reason I am here. There is a reason He wants me to stay. I may not know it and I may not understand it, but it is there nonetheless. At this, I simply tried to hear and enjoy what I could. I paid my offering, I took communion, and I left while they were singing the closing hymn so I could get out of the parking lot before it was overrun with children.
These are definitions of "slack" from webster.com:
"Slack (verb)--to shirk or evade work or duty"
"Slack (adj)--not using due diligence, care, or dispatch : negligent
--lacking in completeness, finish, or perfection
I know that I have definitely evaded attending service regularly, using excuses like "I lost track of the time/days," "Nursery is always full," "I never learn anything," "I don't feel like it," "[Child] is having a bad day," and "I can learn more by simply reading my Bible at home." Hebrews 10:25 tells us not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together: I would call that a duty, and I have failed. I have not been diligent at all, which I find somewhat funny considering I used to wonder how people could seriously just not realize it was Sunday and thus miss the service. I used to count the days until the next service, I loved it that much! I guess I am not as faithful as I thought, seeing as how it seems most of my motivation was for personal gain and pleasure and not to glorify God.
...and that realization hurts...
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