Surrendering Motherhood. . .or Something Like that

Nothing like sitting and staring at a blank computer screen. . .it's not that the thoughts aren't there, but for whatever reason the words are hard to come by.  This particular computer sits still and powerless on most days.  Then when it hums to life I almost always  feel compelled to write.  This week is the first with all three in some version of school and extracurricular class.  It's strange how I long for the rhythm of a new normal and then when it gets here, and it's not what I expected it to be--I long for something more.  Such is our human heart, I guess.

In between catching up on last season's Nashville and folding loads of laundry after hours due to the extreme heat, I finished Surrendering Motherhood:  Losing Your Mind, Finding Your Soul by Iris Krasnow.  I'm not sure how I found this book, or more exactly, how this book found me.  The timing of its words, thoughts and deepest feelings resonated within me.  I'm still caught between two worlds:  working one day a week and being a full time mom.  For whatever reason, the first seems more valued and to get more respect.  As the year evolves into whatever it will be in my classroom setting, I'm even more aware of the choice that will most likely greet me come March.  A job share is probably no longer an option for my partner.  Her life is pulling her in the need to go back full time and a change is on the horizon.  I can't help thanking God that perhaps these past two years have just been preparing me for this moment: surrendering to motherhood and walking away.  For now.

I write this today, my loves more for me than you.  I write this today to gather my thoughts and to to reflect on them and to truly trust God's plan for this next part of my life.  I have taught other people's children for seventeen years.  I have loved what I do in my classroom for most of it.  What I haven't liked is all the garbage thrown at us from the state and government leaders that just suffocates our styles, stifles our passion, and discourages us to trust what our students need.  For as long as I can remember teaching has seemed as natural to me as breathing.  But now, my desire to pour into you, Bean, Bubba, and Nessa Bessa is what drives me.  It's what wakes me up each morning to come to God with my cup of coffee, bible, pen and paper.  Every day starts with the realization that I must rely heavily on Him and His plans for us that day. Random verses pop into my head and serve as reminders, "Do ALL things without complaining and disputing. . .SHINE as lights in the world"--Phil 12:14-15
 He is with me in all that I do.  He is calling me to be here.  To live fully and intentionally with the gifts He has given me: each of you. 

And so, I think about what it might be like to turn in a resignation letter come June.  It would be my first. I allow myself to entertain the thought or idea of working with someone else only one day a week.  And then I just give it to God...trusting Him, His will for my life.  And I read words from a book that has found its way into my home and know His intentions were for me to read things like: 

"When you stop to be where you are, then your life can really begin." (151)

"For most of my life I had been so busy becoming, I never experienced what I had when I had it." (159)

"My kids have captured me, and I am surrendering.  I am no longer mine.  I am theirs."  (160)

"I was avoiding my work at home.  I was avoiding looking into the eyes of sons who wanted everything and feeling that if I kept giving to them I'd have nothing left for myself."  (168)

So many days, as much as I enjoy this life at home I'm internally trying to figure out the next part--much of which includes at least some sort of work in a part time setting--if for nothing more than to have job security. . .just in case.  The reality?  Daddy was injured at work this year.  Financially we survived.  Emotionally we thrived.  What's the problem then?

". . .my work was becoming shallow; my child filled me up.  So why couldn't I finally, after a twisted, endless journey, be a wife and mother and be happy at that?  It was everything I had ever wanted, why wasn't it enough?" (101)

And why did I still listen to other voices?  What about retirement?  A bigger house?  More this?  Less that?
"Respect your own judgement, even if it means ignoring theirs."  (105)  

That's easier said than done for me. . .but maybe it's part of God's calling on my life for now.  To let go of the chatter I hear around me and focus on His voice, His plan, His path. . .

This last verse spoke to me.  I've had a plan for so long. . .been building myself up to be a reputable teacher and eventually a counselor--that the journey hasn't been so incredible as of late.  Because honestly, my goal kind of shifted ten years ago when I became a mama. 

"Real freedom comes from knowing exactly where you are supposed to be and what you are supposed to be doing. (201)  Prison is not knowing where you are going and forever trying to get there." 

I don't want to be stuck between two worlds anymore.  I don't want to make excuses about my choice to be in the home versus the work place.  I don't want to take on too many other tasks to feel valued or to affirm that I am somebody.  I am daddy's wife.  I am your mom.  That is enough.

 

Bye Bye Summer. . .It's Back to School

Oh, these kids!  I look at them growing up right before my very eyes and I am amazed at who they are becoming. The more I've leaned into God, the more I've come to really appreciate and pour into this chosen career of mine: motherhood.

Our fifth and third graders are both on the same side of the campus now.  I can see the twinkle lights in the third grade classroom from my upstairs bedroom window and each time I pass, I intentionally pray for my son, his teacher, and classmates.  I love that he is so close. I don't love that he still is not a big fan of homework.  Truth be told son, neither am I.  We'll get through it.  We always do. This fifth grader of mine who is growing into her own skin and so dang comfortable with who she is.  I often find myself thinking, "Who are you?"  How is it that I learn so much from you? Your confidence? Your courage?  Your strength?  Your ability to block out the words of the world?  Your ability to be who God intends you to be?  It amazes me.  It humbles me.  It seems you have a knowledge that has taken me years and tears to learn.  I want to be just like you when I'm really grown. 

And my pre-school princess, whose first day wasn't this week--but who had to be a part of the pictures anyway.  I get it.  I do.   I'm relishing in our tea parties and walks around town.  I tell people I have two years with you until kindergarten will beckon.  Sometimes that feels like an eternity.  Sometimes it doesn't feel long enough.  We are on year number two together with this awesome one day a week work schedule of mine and I'm learning to say no to the unnecessary stuff.  The stuff that I feel like I should be doing because I'm at home, but the things that aren't necessarily the most important use of my time.  That's a hard lesson to learn sometimes.  I am definitely a work in progress.  For sure.

I have so much hope for a good school year.  So many prayers on my heart for these kids of mine, their teachers, the kids they are surrounded by daily...but I saw this prayer at We Are That Family and tailored it to fit our needs(which means I only deleted two prayers that didn't apply):

I pray you will be near them when I can’t be.
I pray if they don’t feel your presence, they will seek you and discover you’re right there with them.
I pray you will surround them with peace and comfort in every new situation.
I pray when they are pressured, you will help them stand.
I pray they find one good friend, a brother or sister in Christ because it’s hard to stand alone.
I pray that 7 AM won’t come as early this year.
I pray when they fail, they will forgive themselves and try again.
I pray my kids will befriend those that are new, lonely or both.
I pray they will not sit next the child who has to throw up in the class trashcan.
I pray they will be a blessing to their teacher and not a curse.
I pray you will bless them with Godly teachers as you have in the past.
I pray they will have fun. But not too much, if you know what I mean.
I pray they will let their light shine, quietly or loudly, but in their own way.
I pray homework will be light and not become Home. Work.
I pray that you will help me to trust their choices, let them go even when it’s hard, and pull them close when they need me to the most.
I pray above all, God,  that you would use their challenges, disappointments and victories to draw them closer to you this school year.

June 4, 2012

I got up and read my bible this morning and prayed pretty constantly about a situation that has unfolded that everyone is avoiding like the plague. I sat down to write, but my words were just covering up, good, old-fashioned anger.  So I took a break and headed to my inbox where my postcard from the cosmos was waiting:

Greetings,

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal
with the intent of throwing it at someone else;
you are always the one who gets burned.
- The Buddha  

And I laughed. Right clicked, saved and erased my post to post this instead.

I will still pray there is some sort of resolution, but I won't waste my time being so angry about it, nor will I immerse myself in it this summer.  Bottom line? I do not own this situation.

As much as I try to practice my faith--I'm one heck of a grudge holder! And although, my practice is usually to avoid, if given the chance I will address what needs to be addressed.  I will do so without accusation or placing blame--I have concerns; I have a voice. I have a choice.  Today I choose not to let it wast my energy with negativity.  I give it to God--He can handle it.  He's good at giving me permission to let things go and giving it to Him.  Blessed.  Always blessed.