A couple of months back, a young friend of mine asked me to answer a question for one of her school projects. The question was "What does the American Dream mean to you"? As I struggled to fully answer her question, I remembered a quote from the revolutionary patriot Thomas Paine that has always struck me as very profound. It was affecting to me as a college student when I first heard it, and it carries increasingly more weight with continued life experience. In trying to incite the common man to take up the cross of liberty and defiance against the English before the Revolutionary War, he said "What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly. It is dearness only that gives everything it's value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon it's goods; and it would be strange indeed if such a celestial article of freedom should not be highly rated". Think about that for a moment. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly. If it doesn't come at a cost, we don't truly appreciate it's value....and, if anything deserves to be valued, it is freedom.
You had better believe that my freedom is valuable to me. I PAID for that freedom. I paid for my freedom with the most valuable possession I had, my best friend and father of my child. I paid for my freedom with tears. There were the tears that fell as I watched my husband kiss our baby, quickly hug me, and then load onto a bus, headed for a country that I couldn't even imagine if I tried. Those tears awakened in me a sense of longing. There were the tears that fell as I sat across from two men in army uniform, as they informed me that he was never coming home. Those tears numbed me to the core. There were the tears that fell as I lay in bed that night, and felt the loneliness wash over me like a tidal wave so heavy that I thought I was doomed to be crushed. Those tears cut into me like a hot knife. There were the tears that fell as I sat in the shower after the funeral, tears that would not stop because it had taken a monumental feat to hold them in for an entire day. Those tears pushed me towards the very edge. There were the tears that fell as I stood hand in hand with a good friend whose husband had died with mine, as we forced ourselves to attend each and every memorial service for the soldiers from our husbands unit who died after they did. Those tears began to heal my heart. There are the tears that fall each and every time I stand to sing a patriotic song. "Oh, beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife. Who more themselves their country loved, and mercy more than life". Those tears make me feel proud.
So, what does Memorial Day mean to me? I will tell you what it does not mean. It does not mean a carefree day off of work, a light-hearted barbecue, a killer sale on mattresses, drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, or a trip to the lake to water ski. It does mean that a whole lot of somebodies paid for my freedom, and one of those somebodies was pretty darn important.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Mom Guilt
I can't be the only one with this problem. I suffer from a sickness that eats at me everyday of my life, possibly every hour. It causes me mental, emotional, and spiritual stress. I have a horrible case of "Mom Guilt". If you are anything like me, this phrase requires no explanation. But, for those of you who happen to have all of your ducks in a row or more free time than anyone I know, I will give an explanation. "Mom Guilt" is that pit in your stomach you feel when you go through a whole day without having read one word to your child. Its the nagging feeling you get when you realize you chose to spend 30 minutes on Pinterest and therefore did not have time to dance around the living room to Disney songs with your daughter. Heck! Forget about personal time on Pinterest! Its the dilemma you face when you know you have multiple loads of laundry, an entire house to vacuum, and 3 bathrooms to get clean and your son wants you to sit still and listen to his account of the game "Boys Chase Girls" that he played during recess today. In short, "Mom Guilt" is the feeling we get when we have chosen something, ANYTHING really, over quality time spent with our children.
I am going to be very straightforward and admit that most of the time my guilt does not come from chosing personal time and interests over my children. My guilt comes from an Obssessive Compulsive (self-diagnosed :) need to engage in homemaking activities 24/7. Making my own baby food. Cooking from scratch every night. Sticking to a very rigid daily cleaning schedule. Researching food storage techniques. I am telling you..... I have a problem. Aha! I can feel it right this very second picking away at my conscience. My children are out back playing some ridiculous game involving trolls and basketball players and instead of watching them, cheering them on, laughing at their ridiculousness, I sit on the computer and try to analyze why I am not out there playing with them. Its a vicious cycle, really.
I have tried to pinpoint the source of this guilt that we feel. I became a single mother when my first baby was very young. 5 weeks old. We spent so much quality time together that it was coming out of our ears. I never got a babysitter for her unless it was the most extenuating of circumstances. Then, every couple of months, all of a sudden I would feel this pressure building up from a complete lack of personal time. I would call my mother or mother-in-law and try to hold back the tears as I asked them if I could drop off my baby right this very instant. I think I felt like this was my chosen career, my God-given destiny, to be a mother, and that it was wrong somehow to try and get a break from it. That if I wasn't enjoying every single second spent with my child, that something was wrong with me.
I was wrong. Dead wrong.
The blame can be placed on a lot of things. I can blame it on the idealism of Pinterest, the "putting my best foot forward" anecdotes from Mom blogs, the perceived competition I sometimes feel with other mothers about our homemaking or child rearing skills, or even quotes from my church leaders or other great women and men about the unparalleled influence that a mother has on her children. The truth is though, that I have to embrace two facts. The first is that no one has control over me and no one can influence my feelings unless I let them. I need to take charge of the way that I feel. The second is that I AM ENOUGH. As long as I am doing my best and showing love to my children, my efforts will be multiplied and magnified by Him whose sacrafice enables us all to be more than we could ever be on our own. And once in awhile my best means we just didn't find the time to intricately braid the 3 year old's hair, drop everything to read a tall stack of picture books, or make my own household cleaners. Heck, sometimes it means we didn't have time to put clothes on, brush teeth, or eat something other than Top Ramen for dinner. And do you know what? That's okay!
I am going to be very straightforward and admit that most of the time my guilt does not come from chosing personal time and interests over my children. My guilt comes from an Obssessive Compulsive (self-diagnosed :) need to engage in homemaking activities 24/7. Making my own baby food. Cooking from scratch every night. Sticking to a very rigid daily cleaning schedule. Researching food storage techniques. I am telling you..... I have a problem. Aha! I can feel it right this very second picking away at my conscience. My children are out back playing some ridiculous game involving trolls and basketball players and instead of watching them, cheering them on, laughing at their ridiculousness, I sit on the computer and try to analyze why I am not out there playing with them. Its a vicious cycle, really.
I have tried to pinpoint the source of this guilt that we feel. I became a single mother when my first baby was very young. 5 weeks old. We spent so much quality time together that it was coming out of our ears. I never got a babysitter for her unless it was the most extenuating of circumstances. Then, every couple of months, all of a sudden I would feel this pressure building up from a complete lack of personal time. I would call my mother or mother-in-law and try to hold back the tears as I asked them if I could drop off my baby right this very instant. I think I felt like this was my chosen career, my God-given destiny, to be a mother, and that it was wrong somehow to try and get a break from it. That if I wasn't enjoying every single second spent with my child, that something was wrong with me.
I was wrong. Dead wrong.
The blame can be placed on a lot of things. I can blame it on the idealism of Pinterest, the "putting my best foot forward" anecdotes from Mom blogs, the perceived competition I sometimes feel with other mothers about our homemaking or child rearing skills, or even quotes from my church leaders or other great women and men about the unparalleled influence that a mother has on her children. The truth is though, that I have to embrace two facts. The first is that no one has control over me and no one can influence my feelings unless I let them. I need to take charge of the way that I feel. The second is that I AM ENOUGH. As long as I am doing my best and showing love to my children, my efforts will be multiplied and magnified by Him whose sacrafice enables us all to be more than we could ever be on our own. And once in awhile my best means we just didn't find the time to intricately braid the 3 year old's hair, drop everything to read a tall stack of picture books, or make my own household cleaners. Heck, sometimes it means we didn't have time to put clothes on, brush teeth, or eat something other than Top Ramen for dinner. And do you know what? That's okay!
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
A New Beginning
I have had a lot of thoughts on my mind over the last little while. They have been picking at me, struggling for an outlet. I feel like I am at my best when I am expressing myself through writing. Journaling has been helpful in the past, but I feel as if I need something with a little more
purpose. God has bestowed upon me some pretty intense lessons, lessons that inspire awe in me when I really stop to think about it. I feel like I would be selfish if I didn't experience out loud, so that others who are searching for a beacon of light in their own night of blackness can learn along with me. Thus begins this new blog: a place for me to learn as I write and others to experience along with me. Now, to decide what to write about ;)
purpose. God has bestowed upon me some pretty intense lessons, lessons that inspire awe in me when I really stop to think about it. I feel like I would be selfish if I didn't experience out loud, so that others who are searching for a beacon of light in their own night of blackness can learn along with me. Thus begins this new blog: a place for me to learn as I write and others to experience along with me. Now, to decide what to write about ;)
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