mama monday: guts

If you haven't acquainted yourself with the phenomenal site I Heart Guts take a moment or two to check out a few profiled organs.  I love any initiative that takes regular objects and animates them.  Like Marcel the Shell with Shoes On.



In keeping with the mama theme of Mondays, and the patience/hope required along the way to pregnancy, I've been thinking a fair bit about guts.  All those internal bits of us that (usually) feel nothing and (seemingly) do nothing.  They're just...inside.  Like the guts of a computer or a car.  Few understand how they operate and even fewer know how to fix them if something is amiss.

When I had a kidney infection, and because I had never before experienced the particular surprise associated with a kidney infection, I couldn't figure out what was wrong.  I'm not hungry...I guess I have a stomachache?...sort of a side cramp...but in my back...OK, now I need to assume the fetal position to keep the pain at bay...and now we're at the hospital and they're administering morphine and antibiotics and it's all over.  That was weird.

A scrap or cut or bruise is obvious, and the pain is acute.  Internally, things tend to work out on their own or send you muted, cryptic messages until a specialist is able to translate for you.  Guts are obscure, vague, enigmatic.

In African culture, I'm told, what we in the Western world refer to "heart" is not located in the chest but in the belly.  In Hebrew tradition (including translations of the Old Testament), heart and soul are intermixed with liver, stomach, and guts.  There was no separation for them: body, soul and spirit was one and the same. 

I know this to be true because when I'm sad I feel it in my stomach, and when I'm happy I feel it in my chest, and when I'm frightened I feel it shooting through my veins. 

Somewhere in my guts, I believe, God is sorting out the mystery of conception.  Somewhere in my guts, I believe, I harbour the hope that we'll meet the babies of our future.  Somewhere in my guts, I believe, I'll find the strength to bridge between the two seasons: waiting and welcoming.

---

"And the knowing in her guts

Something's still gonna grow

She ain't leaving 'till it does"

(Brooke Fraser, Crows & Locusts)

"By the God of your father, Who will help you,
and by the Almighty,
Who will bless you with blessings of the heavens above,
blessings lying in the deep beneath,
blessings of the breasts and of the womb."

(Genesis 49:25, Amplified)

mama monday: change the world

I've made a shortlist of the worst things (that I can think of) to wait for:

1. Waiting for a method of public transportation, outside, when the weather resembles Voldemort's return to power.
2. Waiting for your turn at a government subsidized office when turns depend on complex letter/number system, like Bingo, and the letter/number system does not progress alphabetically nor chronologically.
3. Waiting in line at an amusement park for a ride that your peer group chose by democratic vote, wherein you were of the minority group, in the blistering sun, having eaten very little.

Waiting to get pregnant (to be pregnant? to turn pregnant?  to pregnacize?) is definitely up there and follows a strict mathematical increase of vexation whereby the axes are represented by "amount of time you are not pregnant" and "amount of time you've been thinking about being pregnant, including contemplations about, dreams about, poetry about, and blog postings about".

Unlike other experiences in waiting, however, I find that this one is difficult to explain.  In fact, other than disappointment, the waiting period is generally pleasant: life is good, I have a fantabulous husband who loves me to bits and makes me laugh, friends surround and support me, an amazing extended family, a great house, and many aspirations for the future.  Compared to examples 1, 2, and 3 above, the actual waiting process involved with parenthood is benign.  A baby would only be the addition to an already agreeable existence.

Simplistic, maybe, but also true.  So why not focus on what we have instead of what we're missing?

When Baby Gaz makes his/her debut and makes us parents in the process, will he/she want to hear that we were excitedly planning for his/her arrival while making the most out of every opportunity?  Or will he/she have an image of Mom and Dad weeping and complaining their way through the months before he/she was born?  I don't want whining to be a family trait.

Jon, new dad, wrote this in his blog just before the birth of his son, Noah:

...many of the characteristics, habits, mannerisms, modes of speech, and even culture that my son will learn are already in me.  The lifestyle of fatherhood began long, long ago (not too long ago, I’m only 25 here!) and continues to grow and deepen as I do. What I’m getting at is the effect my life has on my son’s life even before he is born.

I want to live life now in a way that positively affects my family to come.  If I want them to live in a world with less hatred, I'm going to start loving people more.  If I want them to live in a world of possibilities, I'm going to stop limiting myself.  If I want them to live in a world of hope, I'm going to cultivate it so they'll have a harvest of it when they're born.

I want to make my children proud.

---

“Be the change you want to see in the world.”

(Mahatma Ghandi)

"Once you bring life into this world, you must protect it. We must protect it by changing the world." (Elie Weisel)

I'm starting with the man in the mirror

I'm asking him to change his ways

And no message could have been any clearer

If you wanna make the world a better place

Take a look at yourself and then make that change

(Michael Jackson, Man In The Mirror)

mama monday: serenity...now

If I were granted one superhero ability it would be to fly, although living outside of time would be tempting.  Especially when I'm in the process of waiting for something.  Which is all the time.

Last week my post about chilling out prompted a response from my brother.  Here's a bit of it:

here is one quote of a friend that has demolished me:

"if I had known where I would be today, I would have been smiling all along the way"

this was written a few days before his wedding.

as I'm a fan of brain-experiments with time/space travel - I love this. think about it; look at yourself a year ago worrying about whatever that was. now look at you life now. now look at you in the future, laughing your ass off at your circumstances you worry about today. (now look back at your man - sadly, he isn't me. this post is now diamonds!)

Not only did he score extra points by referencing Old Spice, but he also ended the comment with Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" (seriously, did anyone else know that Robin Williams is in that music video?).

The other day God said, "When you become pregnant, everything changes.  Your body changes, your priorities change, your spare time changes, and the attention of others changes - it will be on you.  For now, enjoy doing all the things that you want with your body, priorities, and spare time, and use them to pour attention out on others.  Because you can."

I love this quote:

"Once you bring life into this world, you must protect it. We must protect it by changing the world."  (Elie Weisel)

Instead of waiting for something to happen we can prepare for it to happen.  The song isn't just "Don't Worry" (we can't define ourselves by a negative), it's "Don't Worry, BE HAPPY."  If a time machine was serendipitously dropped into my life today, I'd (hopefully) have the sense to say, "No thanks.  I'm living in the present.  And there is plenty enough to do in the present to keep me occupied and happy."

Plus, it is said of the only one who is omiscient:

God is striding ahead of you. He's right there with you. He won't let you down; he won't leave you. Don't be intimidated. Don't worry.  (Deuteronomy 31:8, The Message)

---

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we're frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are. After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We'll certainly be happy when they're out of that stage.

We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, when we retire.

The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when?

Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Alfred D. Souza. He said, "For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."

This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with...and remember that time waits for no one.

So, stop waiting until you finish school, 

until you go back to school, 

until you lose ten pounds, 

until you gain ten pounds, 

until you have kids, 

until your kids leave the house, 

until you start work, 

until you retire, 

until you get married, 

until you get divorced, 

until Friday night, 

until Sunday morning, 

until you get a new car or home, 

until your car or home is paid off, 

until spring, 

until summer, 

until fall, 

until winter, 

until you're off welfare, 

until the first or fifteenth, 

until your song comes on, 

until you've had a drink, 

until you've sobered up, 

until you die, 

until you're born again 

to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

- Crystal Boyd

(belated) wifercize wednesday: lean on me

Sometimes things aren't as easy as we make them out to be.

Sometimes, after we've used up all of our own strength, all of our own resources, all of our own answers, and all of our own optimism, we're left with...well, our backyard that Solomon has used as his personal poop deposit zone all winter is a perfect symbol. We're left with what feels like a yard full of recently thawed poop. Which is not the only reason, but is a very good reason nonetheless, that we need God. Because God doesn't run out of strength, resources, answers, or optimism. We're finite. He's infinite.

I've been feeling my finite...ness? recently. In waves of yards full of recently thawed poop. When I feel overwhelmed by difficulties or, what's worse, in a holding pattern of comfort laced with dissatisfaction, I feel trapped. And I get cranky.

A good friend and co-pastor at another young adult congregation, Noel, spoke a few weeks ago on the process of waiting. She uttered such pearls of wisdom (obnoxious to me as they were in my time of waiting) as:

• Waiting is about relinquishing my rights and my control to make something happen.
• No matter what you're waiting for, you have a happily ever after because you are royalty (your Dad is the King).
• Timing = the situation being perfect and favourable for the desired outcome.
• God is working behind the scenes even when we don't see it.
  

Which brings me to marital vows. When man and wife pledge "in good times and bad" I'm sure they, like myself, are picturing epic bouts of illness, tragedy, and poverty. Although a spouse is handy to have when those times come, I find the waiting times are even more difficult. The sheer stalemate of some situations requires, by necessity, someone to lean on. Waiting is tiring.

In our wedding vows, we adapted verses that we love from Proverbs (Amplified):

"The heart of her husband trusts in her confidently and relies on and believes in her securely, so that he has no lack of honest gain or need of dishonest spoil. She comforts, encourages, and does him only good as long as there is life within her."

Even in my waiting, I can be thankful. I can be choose to be thankful for the things I have, instead of dwelling on the things I am waiting for. And, as the Sweet Divines say,

"If I had to make a list of things I need to make my life complete
I would check off a man 'cause I already got such a heckuva man."