stand/still

I really have no clue where to begin anymore… But here, standing still with you is better than not beginning at all.

Did you know my daughter is named for a stone? she's called "helper"… and not just when I say "thank you helper" to her for doing her big four year old girl chores. Ezri means "stone of help". It's based on the Hebrew word "ebenezer". If you grew up Jesus-y you'll remember the song that goes: "here I raise my ebenezer, hither by thy help I've come"… or if you grew up with classic English literature, or corny Christmas movies, um, I give you Ebenezer Scrooge. You can make the connections.

When we named our little Donna Ezri, I had no idea how much of a helper and a true altar stone of remembrance her entrance into our lives would become. Motherhood. Parenthood. Grown up stuff. Even though I was raised, without a doubt, to welcome being a mother and recognize it as a gift of a full and healthy life… even though I definitely had some super examples around me from the dawn of my life… I did not anticipate how much would change. Again!

After everything that God has brought me through. After all that I have learned, all the growing I did, after putting God's love for me to the test in my wilderness of doubt after a broken marriage and the years of spiritual cynicism… So much changed, again. 

I think somewhere early in my relationship to Eric, while I was rejoicing in the sheer redemption of my shattered romantic dreams, and in the true joy I experienced in finding a mate I wanted to grow with, I really thought this: Okay, I've paid my dues. God is making it up to me. Life will be better from now on, things will only go up. Challenges will be surmounted in a single bound!

Um, Stefanie. Seriously? 

I had the audacity to think that 1) I'm done with the hard stuff, 2) God "owes" me anything and 3) that life being "better" would mean that it would be any "easier"! Wow. I'm dense… It's taken me nearly seven years to see some of this, dear reader.

So here's the image that's been rolling through my mind for a while now… Or really, the series of images:

- tears streaming down my face as I sat in the pew of a church that is so dear to me. a friend reaching over to hold me, knowing so well the turmoil inside me without even asking… and this song:

Come Thou Fount of every blessing

Tune my heart to sing thy grace;

Streams of mercy, never ceasing,

Call for songs of loudest praise

Teach me some melodious sonnet,

Sung by flaming tongues above.

Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,

Mount of God's unchanging love.

- a weary and faithful prophet setting a great stone down, and God honoring it's intent, giving victory to a nation (1 Samuel 7:12 ff)

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I'm come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood.

- and a sea of images after that, full of altars, promises, standing stones, miracles, disobedience, rejoicing and celebration, life full of mistakes and triumph…

The past year seemed like a desert. For our family, it was a time of faith, growth and heartache. I'm still not completely sure why all of it happened the way it did. But as I was holding onto my precious Ezri the other morning, soaking in her radiant smile as she snuggled in mommy's bed and watched Laura Ingalls pioneering sprit on the television… In my heart, I met God again. 

He knows I've been an angry and impetuous Israelite child. He's held me so patiently and lovingly in the palm of his hand… even when I railed like Jonah and Job… with not near the reasons they had. God does not owe me anything. He's patiently been waiting for me to fix my eyes back upon the mount. To see my Ebenezer and remember that he created my stubborn and wild heart - I am His child as surely as Ezri and Ever are mine! He has provided for me and whispered words of life in my ear when I thought my heart would crumble. 

None of this is new. I don't expect you to think it is. But I want to share this with you. I want you to know what I've heard, after I came back to this stone of remembrance. It's so simple. It's so, well, obvious. It's something I'm pretty sure I've preached to someone or another before… something I've "wisely" observed in some bible study, or remarked upon in conversations with people I want to impress.

The better life, the better everything I thought I would have after those rocky years I had? I so have it. My better is also higher, and since it's higher I have to reach. God is asking me to grow. God is telling me this - that I'm a good wife, but I could be better, I will be better… that I'm a good mother, but I could be better, I will be better… that I am a good writer, and that I create good things, that I'm a good friend… but I will be better… but change comes in many forms, and if I fix my eyes on the prize ahead (you know the one) that He will be sufficient for me. He always has been. 

Life is good. It's been stripped bare for us. We've clung to each other and wondered why things weren't going our way when we thought (we thought!) we were doing what God wanted us to do… And then we've remembered. We remembered what God has grown us to be: a family… and His family. And then we clung to Him. And our eyes were opened, and fixed back upon our goal.

I'm thirty two… and this growing thing doesn't get any easier, but it has gotten easier to recognize where I need to stop. It's easier for me stand still here with you and see with clearer vision, through the tears and over the endless questions, that something is changing me. And that's good.

Lots has gone on since I last really blogged or shared my writing in any fashion, but after a self imposed hiatus, I'm wanting to share and in a better and clearer way. This is just the beginning… I want to share more, but it will have to wait. For now, I'm glad that God has brought me back here again. Standing here with you.

 O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee:
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it;
Seal it for Thy courts above.

love is a battlefield

ezri discovered the joys of splashing her little hands into the toilet today. thank God it was flushed and i didn't have a diaper soaking in it. the look of absolute mirth and glee on her face was priceless... unfortunately, i was not in a mood to appreciate it at the time. it was 2 pm, i'd changed her clothes three times by then and had said NO more times than i would like to remember, oh - and i hadn't showered yet.

yeah. much crying and "NO'ing" and firm voice and eye contact later, she melted into a puddle of sweetness and fell asleep after a good long nurse...

and then i took a shower.

and now i count the minutes until eric arrives home and she awakens... and see how many things i can do before then, well, after i stare at the internet. this is the most challenging front yet, and i know it will just grow... who knew you could feel such frustration and love at the same time?

no, you can't do that... because i love you, and i don't want you to get hurt. not yet, when you're a bigger girl... don't go in there without mommy... take this yucky medicine, be still because i want you to feel better... i love you.

rough nights and little sleep, dirty diapers and learning how to function with a beautiful baby on your hip ... it's nothing in comparison to what i see on the horizon.

psshhh - forget the horizon, it's here.

ladies and gentlemen, we have a toddler, and the into everything will now commence... along with the exhausted love filled NO's.

Direct your children onto the right path,

      and when they are older, they will not leave it.

Proverbs 22:6

connect >

yesterday was the tenth anniversary of 9/11. i know that i'm not the only one who has had that lingering in the back of my mind for the past few weeks... for me, a person who likes to play the memory game and often, it was a chance to look back on a decade's worth of life.

i was 19. college, sophomore year just started, best roommate situation i've ever had (before eric ;), a very questionable long distance boyfriend who would soon become my fiance... acting class, survey of civ, lifetime wellness... and who knows what else.

my long distance boyfriend - the future ex-husband - was in dallas working that semester... we IM'd about the attack. he didn't call me, i didn't call him. funny to think about now in the context of a long past relationship... i see so many of those things as an indicator of how wonky our relationship was. over this past weekend i've heard so many people recall how they raced to find their spouse, their children, their parents... to hold them and reassure themselves. i was on the cusp of being engaged to this guy and all he said, over the internet, was: well, the sh*** has hit the fan now.

seriously?!!

which is probably why when i think of what i was doing on 9/11 i think of the class i was in when it happened, the chapel service that morning and singing "God Moved In a Mysterious Way" instead.

in some ways, i think my life started to explode that fall too.

homecoming came, and i was suddenly engaged and planning a wedding for spring break of the following year... and struggling with mixed emotions that i never expected when i imagined myself finding "mr. right". he was in texas, because he was on academic suspension from our school, and i was alone in tennessee. i don't think i realized it then, in fact i know i didn't until i returned to the US from Italy in 2005, but i had begun to disconnect.

things weren't what i had thought they'd be, and i was too naive to see why and too scared to get out. and so as the president began to advise us to continue living our lives as usual and to spend spend spend, i began to believe that where i was and how i was being treated was normal. as we buried our shock and horror at what had happened to us as a nation, i buried my normal healthy reactions (the ones he told me were wrong) in shopping for stuff i didn't need with money we didn't have. i quit school. i took prozac. i thought there was something really wrong with me.

my family held on as much as they could... the line stretched from kansas to georgia, my grandmother died in June that year... the line stretched from kansas to Italy, i nearly died in June of that year.

alone in military housing, each apartment a mirror of the other, i took long bubble baths and ignored the laundry and the garbage and the yelling when he got home... i took the dog for walks, talked to my mother every day long distance, and finally tried to talk to my him about how awful everything was. another explosion. he yelled the word "divorce" in a string of irate sentences and left to God knows where, the door slam echoing on the tile. i went upstairs, opened the bottle of perkaset and took it all. there was nowhere for me to go, and (i thought) no one to help me.

10 minutes later, i called the only friend i could think of and she raced me to the hospital. i don't even feel anything when i think about my time in there... i have a memory of an Italian nurse squeezing my hand and speaking soothingly as they pumped my stomach. my heart is only beginning to ache now.

that was June 2004. i was completely disconnected. the hands of strangers brought me back, the actions of our military's employees got me home (i can never praise the chaplaincy and services on that base enough), and i began to wake up.

it took the US until the recession in the winter of 2008 to wake up... by then i was sitting in my car listening to NPR and not wanting to walk across the frozen parking lot to work. i'd been divorced (after a year of working desperately to fix things) since April of 2006... an engagement ring sparkled on my hand again, and i was longing to be home with the man who loved me, listened to me, understood me and who was loved and praised by all my loved ones.

since then, i've been repairing the last walls that were broken. i'm safe, i'm surrounded by those who love me and i even love myself (and that one took a while!), and i have a connection to those who hurt that the 19 year old who wasn't even sure the first reports of the 9/11 were real would have ever had.

lately, these themes of connection>disconnection|reconnection< have been rolling around in my heart, touching on my spirituality, on my choices as a new parent, on our choices as a society (global and national) and my choices as a human being... our hearts stopped when we saw how vulnerable we were and how quickly the world could go sideways, what else could we do but hunker down and bury the hurt with things and anger toward those who hurt us? there are many who have shared much more powerful insight on the impact of 9/11 and what it has done to us as Americans, and as global citizens, for me i have recognized in myself this touchstone... this stone of remembrance that has helped me begin to honor the journey i've made.

"Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I've come. And I hope by Thy good measure, safely to arrive at home."

thank you for remembering with me, thank you for connecting.

long distance

we're going where? and without grandma and grandpa?

this is our first day with internet in exactly one month. we've been glued to our phones and fb mobile - alas! my daughter has jealousy issues with my phone now. pretty sure. considering the fact that we are now a one-car family in a new city, i am incredibly thankful that we're able to afford internet at home. i was beginning to feel a wee bit isolated, despite our planned "car days", walks and getting plugged into a great church... the daily routine is so silent! well, not silent when your donna ezri's mom, but... unvaried ;)

and besides all that - we have two sets of long distance grandparents and various relatives who are demanding skype time! my in-laws are now living in belgium for the next two years, and my parents received an exciting call to be Missionaries-in-Residence at freed-hardeman university and are arriving in henderson today. there has been a lot of change for the fam this summer... eric's parents, my parents, my baby brother and we have all moved in the last two months! and good things are happening.

over the course of our prep and move, we encountered remarks about the distance that we would now have to span to see family. i realize we all feel this differently because of our own upbringings and perspectives but it surprised me many times to be reminded that others do not see every change as a God-given, God-driven thing.

i've had the privilege of knowing my sweet husband's family for the past four years now, and have marveled at the changes they face every time the military re-assigns my dad-in-law and the facility with which my mom-in-law organizes each move. i'm also always amazed at how much the government takes care of our service members in aiding the moving process - compared to how preaching/missions families have to do it - wow! 

i wrote a post inspired by their move a little while back, so i won't delve too deeply into it except to muse on the whole long-distance family relationships and the opportunities God gives us...

today i'm thinking about the challenges and opportunities that my in laws will have - to learn about and communicate with multiple cultures and to be the godly and loving witnesses they are wherever they go... 

i'm thinking of my mom and dad and the adventure they are embarking upon. they've left a loving church family who sent them off with joy and tears and are about to go somewhere that has been a place to recharge and connect... a place where they will now be a source of encouragement and inspiration for students and those headed to the mission field. 

i'm thinking of my brother and sister in law who have grown so much in the past few years as a couple, as christians and now as wonderful parents... they haven't moved far, just into a house that fits them, but i know they are using it to build others up already.

and us. mainly eric. this feels like the first place we get to be our own little family. we were blessed with a good house before we even got here, the school and church eric is working with has been warm and welcoming and perfect starting point for his teaching career. each little challenge (and they've all been little) and decision we've needed to make in the midst of the move, settling and starting work, i've marveled at my love and how much he's grown, how he is an excellent daddy, how he puts our needs first. he is using every opportunity God gives him to grow and to help others. 

in brussels, in henderson, in fort worth, in macon... and so many, many other places where our hearts have gone, the links grow bright and strong because He is using us, if we let him. 

there is a lot more i want to write. i'm hoping to start posting *at least* once a week now that we are settled. til then - cheers!

north america's newest endangered species...

Ezri and Mommy, nursing at 3 months...

America's newest endangered species? The breastfeeding human mother.

It's been on my heart a lot since I've become a mother. It's something I'm nervous to have my typical "rant" over - though it's most worthy of many rants - because I really want people to listen. Recently, a sweet friend of mine blogged about her experience with public breastfeeding at a zoo, she said she felt like she was on display along with the animals as groups of elementary school students looked at her with the same curiosity they have for the monkey exhibit. Along with that, I have read or skimmed soooo many blogs and online mag articles that are purposely built to stir up opinion, put people on the defense (or offense), and just generate mean spirited judgemental gossip. I hate this.

I have a beautiful six month old daughter. She is breastfed. I love, love, love being able to give her sustenance like this, physically and emotionally. This relationship is precious and fills me with awe at how my body can sustain another... our connection didn't stop at birth, it blossomed and grew into the next phase just as nature intended. It is a start to a lifelong relationship that will not end when she is weaned. I am blessed to be able to bond with my baby this way, and all that I could ever desire for any new mom is a chance to do the same with her babe because I know how wonderful it is.

Some people I have encountered seem to think/express/imply in their statements and reaction to those of us who are vocal about "lactivism" or just about the plain old mom to mom help with the mechanics of nursing that it is something that should be completely private and definitely should take place behind closed doors. I have so many problems with this. And I could go on and on about rights and parenting choices and the need for support and so on... but let me just say this from my particular perch:

I am a nursing mom, and I choose to live a life that takes me outside the boundaries of my home on a daily basis... I want my baby to live in the world and experience it just as I do. She gains her nourishment from me, in a completely natural way that has existed since man and womankind were created. Our culture has lost that knowledge, and we are wealthy enough that even the poorest families can afford to buy (sometimes with "subsidies") bottles and formula... I am not telling anyone else that this is "wrong". I am asking you to support me by allowing me to breastfeed my baby anywhere with the same freedom that a mom or dad has to feed their baby with a bottle. The only way we can reclaim this wholesome, completely modest and beautiful act in our society is to allow it to happen without shame or fear of negative reactions.

It has genuinely surprised me to see some of the awkward and downright snobby reactions of my peers at times when it comes to this "issue" that should not be an issue at all. Perhaps part of this is my complete culture shock as an African kid. Yes, I may have pale skin, but I grew up in a setting where it was so normal to breastfeed in public that growing up I didn't think twice about seeing an exposed breast... how else were those babies supposed to eat? Again, I could get in to all sorts of stuff about how ridiculous it is that we as a nation have such a low success rate with nursing past the first two months, and that we need to educate and live it and so on... but, as a person of faith I've been thinking a lot about this.

How do I "witness" to others in an open, non-angry, approachable way about my beliefs as a breastfeeding, natural parenting mom? My sister-in-law sent a link to this shirt the other day, and it made me laugh:

Maybe that's how I'll do it. Honestly, I'm not sure... all I know is that it has truly and deeply worried this mama's soul to see how "up in arms" people get about this. As a believer, I feel like it's important to "live at peace with everyone"(Romans 12:18).

Of course, here's the whole verse: 

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone."

Now, you scholarly types can go to town on my interpretation and application here, but I guess I read this:

"Now Stefanie, if it's POSSIBLE, you need to make every effort to live at peace with others, BUT this depends on you and if they make it IMPOSSIBLE well, peacefully, lovingly, stand up for what you know is right."

Like I said, I'm no scholar, just the daughter of one. But here's my own bottom line: if you want to have a conversation with me about breastfeeding, it will be one that is passionate, well-informed, exciting and as diplomatic and loving as possible. Believe, this is HARD, because the plain truth is I have felt incredibly isolated in my choice to nurse my child exclusively, to do it until she is ready to wean and not before, and to actively and vocally participate in a local mother to mother support group because I believe it's necessary. I have felt defensive and judged and misunderstood all at the same time. But like I said, it's my determination that no matter what the other tiger-mothers and breastfeeding nazis do out there, I will live at peace with you and continue my membership in the endangered species club.

another letter...

this was initially a guest post submission for a blog i follow... i initially thought it didn't make the cut, but i was wrong (thanks Gina!) ... look for it on The Feminist Breeder this Thursday, April 14.

For Donna Ezri:

Itʼs a warm spring day, the Kansas wind nearly knocked me over this morning while I was sliding you into the Moby wrap to go shopping. You are four months and five days old and your father and I are besotted with you.

Whenever you read this, I hope that you know that to your core. My prayer, with every breath as we sit and nurse in the glow of lamplight or as you lay on the floor rolling and squealing with delight and discovery, is that you will always know you are loved and worthy of it.

A few days ago I decided to write this letter for you. Itʼs gone through many drafts and stops and starts since then. There is so much, a universe I want to guide you through, so much I want to make sure you know. When I see the light and joy behind your eyes, and (already!) the anger and determination there too, I wonder how I am ever going to keep up with you and everything you need.

I have no idea what might transpire between the time that I look at you now and when you read this letter. I do know myself, and your dad, and what we are determined to give you... The things we want to teach you are really detailed and really nebulous... Love and understanding of the world around you, and ability to put yourself in the place of others and be willing to do whatever you can to help them... Passion for doing what is right, and determination to stand by your beliefs and be able to explain them without alienating others but opening their minds and hopefully opening your own.

When I think of the you that will read this letter, I see a bright and determined redheaded beauty, maybe 20 years old - maybe 16... and I think of myself at those ages. Your grandparents were born to be parents. They raised me to be interested in the world around me and to become an adult ready to interact with that world fully. I want the same for you. But I know that in the craziness of being a family, and raising you, and making sure you know how to be that person you are becoming, I may not
communicate everything I hope for you.

The world around us is full of beautiful things and difficult things, and all of it is going to shape you and change you and challenge you into being an amazing young woman. I canʼt wait to know you as that person. Never think that I donʼt want to listen to what youʼre thinking and feeling. I canʼt think of anything more important than knowing my family and what is in their hearts. You and your father are the blessing I never thought I would have.

You are at the threshold of life, and there is so much in front of you. If you donʼt realize or know it yet, I am behind you, I want you to excel in whatever you want to do and whatever it is you are passionate about. There may be times, I know there will be, when I will tell you truthfully what I think about things you do or say, but even if it is critical it does not change how much I care about you and the person you are. In fact, I tell you honestly what I think because I love you.

If I could tell you one thing that helped me most in the first ten years of my “adult life”, before you, it would be this:

The only person you can truly change is yourself.

I know, itʼs pretty straight forward, seemingly obvious... and, after living with me for 16 to 20 years, I am certain youʼve heard it a few times. There are some big reasons why this phrase is important to me.

The only person you really have complete “control” over is yourself, and it should be the only person you control... and that alone is a difficult job at times! Changing yourself is something you ought to do for yourself first, and most of the time only yourself. Donʼt let anyone tell you that you are unworthy or make you feel as if you cannot do what you know you can do.

There will be people in your life that you will fall for, that you will love or admire, that you will want to impress for reasons good and bad... they are the people you want to change for, and at times they are the people you think you can change. I have the privilege right now to help shape you and how you see the world, but I would never want to try and change your (already!) vibrant and sweet determined nature for the world. No matter how much you love another person and desperately desire them to change, the most you can ever do is love them and let them know you want to help. You can pray, you can be the best influence you can be, but they must make the choice to change if they need to.

And thatʼs the other thing that I have the blessing of seeing in you: the choices you make, good and bad, that will make you. You will see me make choices too, I canʼt guarantee that they will always be best, but I can promise with all my heart that the choices I make have been and will be with your contentment and happiness in mind.

Right now, the choices I see you make are whether to roll over or stay put, to reach for my coffee mug or to nurse or play... soon theyʼll get bigger and bigger. No matter how big or small, I am your mother and I will always be here cheering you on a praying the best into your life.

I love you.

Thank you for making me your mom.

the (dis)illusion of control

have you ever noticed our human tendency to fool ourselves into thinking we're in control? of anything outside ourselves? we learn so quickly that we can manipulate little things around us... and some of us are very much prone to allowing others to "control" at times...

ezri is on her tummy, on her little blanket, staring at the mirror i've propped up. she has become adept at grasping it and drooling all over it... but when she gets truly dissatisfied with it, and her position, she screams. it's actually kind of cute. but she knows, already, that if she makes enough noise someone bigger than her will come running and fix it.

smart baby.

recently, i heard someone say (basically), "i guess i didn't start praying for the right thing soon enough". wow. this made my head spin. the whole phrase makes me cringe. it implies that the speaker thought that in order to get what you want, you have to get your christmas list in to God by a certain time... that, somehow, we can simply order up our future by dialing in the right prayer at the right time.

pretty sure that's not how God works. i'm not even sure the person who said that realized how that sounded, or that s/he thinks that's how prayer works either. but what frightens me, and makes me take a hard look at my own habits and phrases and so on, is how easily that idea slipped out... and the fact that it implies a sense of perceived control.

i just finished writing something for my daughter in which one of the big things i shared with her is a statement that i have made a mantra at times: the only person i can change is myself. i've had this lesson taught over and over in my life. through a failed marriage full of mistrust and control and anger, through my own struggles with addiction and depression, and even through meeting and falling in love with my best friend... through positive and negative experiences, i've learned and relearned that i cannot control another person, ever... and i can definitely not control any situation that comes my way.

what i can do is work on me, and accept that life may throw some weird things my way but i can be flexible and open. when i open myself up to whatever God is pulling me through, i can grow and learn anything. some of the worst times in my life have become tipping points, the climax that leads to life changing decisions big and small. because i have been in a relationship where the person i loved thought he needed to "control" me, i know how it feels to be crushed into a mold that isn't me. after that, you fight anything and everything that might mean conformity.

years later, i've realized that not everyone or everything will control me. i can make choices. i make the choice every day to teach my child how to live in this world as an equal with delight and curiosity, i make the choice to love those around me whether they appreciate it or not, i make the choice to do right and to be unafraid of what others might think. i can be loving and considerate and still do what i need to do...

and it's so much less stressful than battling to control every tiny thing around you because you are afraid of the unknown. in my experience, as soon as you think you have a handle on it all, the whole thing comes crashing down and you have to start again. that's just too much work for me.

perfect

it must be one of the oldest and newest feelings on earth - the overwhelming, breath-taking, awe-inducing love and trepidation that sweeps over a woman, and a couple, when her child breathes a first breath. i cannot imagine anything else like it.

i sit in the den, lit by the glow of our christmas tree, and marvel at the sweet soft skin and adorable squeaks (yes, squeaks) and murmurs of my daughter as she sleeps. she is 12 days old. she is perfect.

and we all arrive like this. how can anyone not be filled with love and awe at the thought of this event? how can we learn to see eachother as we were - new, pure and whole, as my mother says:  closer to God? we were all there... and we all should be loved as much as our little ezri.

she will, without a doubt, grow and learn and become capable of doing things that will exasperate, bewilder, challenge and even dissapoint us. she will, without a doubt, become her own person full of her own opinions and ideas, thoughts that are unique to herself... and i may not get them all... i know that this tiny, beautiful individual will become so many things. she will always know that in my eyes she is whole and she is perfect.

i may not always succeed in communicating this to her - she may even come to believe at times that she is far from it - but all i see as i watch her sleep is all the good God has found in the two of us, all i see is what i hope He sees in us, and i have a taste of the love our Creator has and the vision He holds for us.

the nights can be long, and sleep patterns have altered drastically, i may at times feel tethered to this little thing, and there may be moments where i gladly will hand her to others who love her so i can rest... but the words to describe us right now sound like peace, contentment, awe, gratitude and perfect.

observations from a rapidly changing vantage point

* i am no longer "college age" and really don't understand the kids on FB these days

* going to an "organic"/"natural" baby store replete with cloth diapers and nursing covers is an exciting outing

* i am okay with not agreeing with my friends on everything political, spiritual and otherwise

* other people seem to think i'm confident and outspoken at times. huh.

* my husband gets more interesting, more attractive and more considerate every day. marrying him has been the best thing

* we will not always live where we can pick and choose where we worship, who the best choices for friendship are, or what activities we participate in

* people don't always appreciate the things you consider to be gifts shared with them. and there's not always a lot you can do about that

* i am actually becoming okay with the idea of "staying home" with my child for a while... without the guilt of "i should be using my degree and succeeding in a career"... that does not have to define me and be a measure of my worth

* i've spent 8 months carrying this beautiful child, and i can't wait to meet her. it astonishes me how much anticipation and readiness resides within my heart

* perhaps, perhaps, i am finally becoming okay with losing the girl i was at 19 because the woman i am at 28 is far more interesting and truly content

education

next to godly living, the biggest priority and most valued achievements in my family life have been centered around education. i've said to friends before that religion and education (and religious education) are the family businesses. not that we have loads of family members infiltrating the public education system, or that we have a large percentage of hebrew scholars discussing open theology and what have you's at reunions (though that would all be very cool)... but that after or right under the central theme - god-focused life - we all have been taught (ha!) to revere learning in any state.

i told mom the other day that she has a didactic personality.

this is equal parts nature and nurture in my opinion. if you take my mother as an example, she gets her habit of constant instruction (in her wonderful, gentle nature) from her genes (thank you Loy and Donna) and from her parenting and life experiences (oh, thanks again Loy and Donna ;). and she's passed it down, with the equal participation of my father, one of the best teachers i know.

and i see it in myself - a self-described know it all with too much "trivia" in my head. i may not be constantly constructing a lesson with my daily dialogue like some of my esteemed relatives (uncle stan is one of the best in finding a way to sum up every convo - i love it), but my eyes are open and my ears pricked to any useful piece of daily info - you never know when someone might need to know about the history of crisco (did you know it was originally intended to be marketed as SOAP?) or how to get in touch with the local chamber of commerce to promote your charity of the month. i know the most random things, and they are the most remarkably useful things sometimes. i can tell you all about how to relocate to henderson tn by the way.

since "imparting wisdom" seems to be a biblical kind of thing to do, i suppose i shouldn't be surprised that it's ingrained in my life patterns. perhaps every preacher's kid and teacher's kid feels this way too.

lately, i've thought a lot about what we will teach ezri. i can see eric telling her all about world history, video games, how the us government works, and challenging her to think critically about everything she encounters, how to laugh at the slapstick of animaniacs and wit of cs lewis - he will have so many gifts to share with our little girl. the images i have in mind are of a relationship that is forged over time, like the ones i value between myself and my parents and so many of those educator-relatives (like my granma Wheat and her wonderful insights)

she'll probably get used to my political rants, my musings on being a woman in our culture and belief system, and learn to roll her eyes at my inconsistencies. i hope some of it will make sense. i hope that she learns to do what her grandma Donna always said to do when listening to someone else - to find the meat and spit out the bones.

education is part of a lifelong pursuit, a romance with knowledge and a thirst for growth. it is not a period in your life that revolves around class periods, dry tests, popularity contests and competition. it's a daily curiosity and a passion for what you have faith in. the best teachers in my life will always be mentoring me and urging me to push further... they remain with me. some of them are called instructors, by vocation, others are simply repositories of love and wisdom who have inspired me (ron and judy warpole, julie osburn, becky youngblood, chara watson... it's a long list)

and their characteristics that i will arm myself with as i forge this new relationship with the little ball of energy kicking and squirming under my ribs? patience. humility. love. honesty. fearlessness. hope. discernment. an open and listening heart.

so keep on teaching me, teachers.

traction

it's been a while - like a few weeks - since i've had this experience, it used to happen almost every morning. getting in the shower, or preparing for work in the morning, the wave of regret and guilt hits me and the thought: why didn't i just go to memphis, or anywhere else?

two years ago, i graduated with a BA in theatre performance after battling a lot of life's twists and turns (dropping out, bad grades, the divorce...) and to top it off, went straight to a genuine job at a theatre company in cincinnati. so many good things were flooding over me. my parents helped me move, i had a boyfriend - the best friend i never anticipated - and i was going to live downtown and walk to the theatre every day. i was going to make connections and charm people and surprise them with my management and creative abilities.

none of it, none of the big parts, were what i expected.

and on quiet or dark mornings, i still wake up and blame myself for not being better. why couldn't i do what i've seen a zillion other creative, talented theatre types do and just throw myself into things there? why could i not connect? i know there are a zillion reasons why. i've gone through them all.

i suppose that this is my one regret over the last couple of years. self-derailment.

one of my favorite people, someone who gave me beyond excellent references when i was hunting for theatre work, asked me what happened there the other day. i was more than glad he asked, it gave me a chance to think about it. it's still hard to sum up.

it didn't work out. i got distracted. it wasn't what i expected. i wasn't what they expected. it was a time when i was sorting out some things spiritually and mentally. it was a time when i was falling in love and far from the man i wanted to marry.

so many things were healing in my heart that i needed fixed. so many things were happening in my head that just needed to happen. all the dark and brooding thoughts from many years of dissapointment were shrinking away... i had gotten my degree, i'd proved to myself that i could do something i'd always wanted. i'd even won the respect of mentors that i loved. i'd been part of a church that felt like home. i saw myself as an intelligent, well rounded and creative woman who could offer a small amount of hard earned wisdom.

i wonder if any job i'd taken would have stuck at that time.

i still had some wilderness to climb through before i could see my newer self. i couldn't get traction in cincinnati, maybe it was because i was simply meant to keep walking through. it meant i lost something i'd wanted for a long time, but i also gained things that will be with me a lifetime. that, i don't regret.

life has been weird, good, rewarding, hard and unexpected since then. i am married to the best person i know. he puts up with my strange ways, even enjoys them. i am having a baby. wow. i've worked a year in a school system that has shown me that i can teach and enjoy it. the community in winfield is a good one, and i am thankful God led us to stay here and help minister and work in the church here for a while. i am beyond proud of my husband's academic achievements, and how he has grown spiritually and in his ability to lead and teach.

it's a good life. sometimes i still feel like i'm simply in another transition, and i am, but it is one that i trust and do not fear. i have chosen it. i still ache to do something creative. i still miss working on shows, and being at the center of it. i will be there again. i have to be.

someday, i will direct the plays i have listed in the back of my journal since i was a junior in college. someday i will find the right place, and the right way to do theatre again. it may be with a sleeping baby wrapped in a sling on my hip, or with my husband watching little ezri while i take notes and write down blocking... but i can do it, and want to, in the right time.

when i get some traction. somewhere. i know how to look to the horizon and keep my feet on the ground.

why my husband is better than me

my husband just came in the door, sweaty and grass covered from mowing our lawn. it's 8 pm on a wednesday night. we came home and he said he needed to "cool down" by mowing. yeah.

so, it is not a secret that i have large opinions, larger emotions and lots of energy behind each conviction i express. i like this about me, most of the time. i have also realized in the past couple of years that these things can be dangerous. being invested in things means getting upset when things take a bad turn. it means getting angry and defensive for "your side", and wanting to give people a piece of your mind.

sometimes, that is good. IF you can get it out clearly, concisely and without being overwhelmed by the urge to punch through a wall instead.

my husband stood by my side about two months ago as i faced a fear of mine and talked to someone i would rather have hit at the time. i knew that i needed to listen to this person and the concerns he had. i knew that it would be wrong of me not to, and that if i simply went on angry and defensive without listening to him and expressing my concerns and reaction to his face that i would implode. it was the jesus-y thing to do. eric was wonderful. he quietly stood through my encounter with this person and reinforced the love i wanted to express over the hurt i felt at some of the things that person said and implied.

tonight, he followed a kid (i say kid because he chose to act like one, he's old enough to know better) out of the church building and called him out on something very uncool that he did. he actually stood there and made this person listen to some straight things. this is a kid who thinks he is always right and always wronged. this is a kid who hasn't had the best examples at times and doesn't know how to react when someone confronts him in love over anything he might have done wrong.

i don't know how he did it.

i've wanted to wring necks, and shout at the top of my lungs, and seriously beat up on some people lately. people that i know i need to love, and really really do. that's why it hurts so much when they do and say things that hurt other people i love. i know this sounds vague. chalk it up to a preacher's kid rant if you will. i am intensely proud of my parents ministry and their devotion to a calling that is not easy. they are loved and respected by so many wonderful people. it's amazing how the power of one or two negative voices can knock you down and cut you through. i don't know why it works that way.

and tonight, if i'd been eric, i don't think i would have had the presence of mind, patience and hope in humanity that he had to go out and talk to a kid that obviously has been hurting for a long time. i think all i would have done is yell.

so when i don't get all the negativity and really really don't understand these people i'm called to love, my sweet sweet husband reminds me how it's done.

heartsick

there are times when i think, know, that i must sound downright angry and negative. i like to say that culture shock has never worn off for me as a missions kid. i don't know if it's just that. i want to credit some of how i react to the culture around me to my family and mentors who modeled a life that is simple, focused and noble. mine is not necessarily any of those things, which may be why i get heartsick.

money is on my mind. the past ten years of my life, the ones that comprise my adult life, have been filled with mis-steps and misadventures... they've been full of good too... but many of the challenges i've had seem to be rooted at times in poorly thought out financial decisions. i've gotten good at getting out of jams, i've learned how to talk to collectors, i've found out ways to set up payment plans and defer loan payments, i've learned how to avoid and how to get by without things that really ought to come first.

and i'm discovering my story is not that rare. but it makes me sick.

i wasn't raised to be materialistic... however, even with the best of intentions to avoid "worldly" influence, i've been seduced by the "need" for a cell phone plan, the "wisdom" of building credit, and a slew of other things. i've chosen to get a new outfit over saving that same money toward the mounting student loan payments that are always in the back of my mind.

do you know what i mean?

eric and i are starting something big. we have no illusions that this will be easy. we want to be debt free in 3 to 5 years. i have more student loan debt than anyone with a mere BA should have, and various and sundry post college debts we've accrued that in the end were not necessary if we had just said no to ourselves. our recent trip to and from tennessee was encouraging. we budgeted. the envelope system. and the way there and back, i read dave ramsey out loud. i cried. we talked. and we got excited about tackling something that we have seen eat at people we love and respect all our lives.

today was not easy for my sweet husband. he had to argue his way through a payment plan with the cell phone company. we cancelled our plan but had termination fees and past due stuff they charged us for. before he got on the phone, he decided how much we could pay _right now_ to take care of this. he stuck to it, and that is what he did in the end. it took an hour of bouncing between four or so customer service reps before they got it through their heads that we weren't going to be guilted into rash and sudden commitments of money we don't have (ie. credit cards or, can't someone loan you the money right now?) i am so proud of him, but this experience made him feel 2 feet tall.

what is wrong with us?

someone tries to be honest and only use the means they have at their disposal to take responsibility for something - and that person is made to feel foolish, irresponsible and small. don't get me wrong, we haven't managed all our finances well, but we are taking action to fix that and instead of applause we get rotten tomatoes.

yeah.

and then i visit with friends and family who are happily putting down plastic for new iphones or choosing to extend their direct tv package. their kids' favorite things to do are go shopping at target or eat at mcdonalds... they don't know what it's like to not have cable or to plan ahead enough so they can share a car anymore.

these are the choices we celebrate in america. why?

these are the choices we celebrate as people of faith - why? what happened to the lilies of the field, and the sparrows? where is my treasure supposed to be buried again? i am horrified when i see teenagers expect such luxuries like their own car, a cell phone, a computer of their own... i'm sure they thank their parents, but what did their parents have to do to pay for those things? do those kids have any idea of the value of the things they have? i know i've lost touch with the true value of these things, they won't even have the advantage of ever knowing.

specific pictures come to mind. of young men close to me who have been questioned and criticized for choosing a life of ministry instead of a life of accountancy, or some other "stable" career path. how can anyone criticize a person for choosing to serve others over serving self? if it's in a person's heart to serve the Creator in that way, shouldn't we praise him or her?!

and if i choose to live, for a time, in a humble low income apartment instead of breaking my back to buy a house way before i can afford it, shouldn't you praise me too? if i choose to save the money i could be using to eat out with friends now in order to later live without guilt, a hug and word of encouragement would be so much more welcome than the unspoken criticism that i have felt at times for making a wise choice...

and so, it makes me heartsick when i see our lives wrapped in consumerism to the point that it is difficult for any of us to see straight, but i am hopeful. today, i am hopeful that someday soon i will be able to breathe and not wonder if i can really afford to buy a second gallon of milk at the end of the month. i am hopeful that someday sooner than i know, i will be able to wake up with my child in the mornings and know that we can spend the whole day together without the strain of daycare, work schedules and credit card bills to pay.

and somehow, that makes my heart sigh at the little reliefs along the way, like my husband telling at&t what for.

a first attempt

it is another unusually brilliant sunny day in northern italy. the roses and geraniums are profuse and embarassingly bright. it's humid, but not unbearably so. i've walked the dog, managed to take a shower and even prepare a meal. it's more than i've been able to do all week. the house is in disarray, beds unmade and trash piled up and begging to be taken out...

an argument errupts moments after he comes home. i think about it now, and can understand his perspective. he'd worked all day, i'd been home all day - why can't the house be clean? why can't i take care of it, it's not like i'm working?

these memories intrude on my every day life at times. sometimes i can simply push them back and say it's past... they are remnants of a struggle long ago set aside. there are times though, when this and other more searing images press into my heart and i cannot set them back in their place easily.

the prompt for recent remembrances:

an "exchange", as a friend termed it, on my preferred social networking site that stirred up a good question, old feelings, and a desire or prompting to share. although it's been my determination from day one of separation and then divorce from my ex-husband to be open about the difficulties and growth earned from it, i really do not relish sharing deeply. i don't think that i need to.

but it hit me this morning, as i said goodbye to my sweet eric as he left to job hunt once more, that i have reasons to rejoice, and reasons to share, and how will anyone know who i am if i don't tell them why i believe what i believe?

am i an evangelical or what?

so, to the good question:

"stefanie, why are you - the daughter of a couple devoted to christian ministry and fairly conservative and moderate in all respects - a feminist?"

okay, so this is something that i feel - in person or online - that i can never fully answer in one fell swoop. that may change over the years, as i hope age will teach me to be wiser and more concise, but in the meantime i wish to tackle this.

my first answer:

i identify myself as a feminist because it is the right thing for me as a Christian and a woman in my culture to do. like so many things that we come to realize about ourselves in early life, becoming comfortable with saying, "i am a feminist" has been a natural part of recognizing who i am as an individual and that it is something about me that has been there all along.

the old feelings:

are connected to the memories. they are so complex and tangled. many are connected to an attempted marriage that ended in heartbreak, some are connected to the naivete that my young sheltered self had ten years ago, some have been around me as long as i can remember.

- the gut reaction occurred when someone i respect said, "i want nothing to do with feminism... i am content to let my husband lead... and, i don't see the need to vote and don't value my right as a woman to do so..." (these are paraphrased)

- memory: being told that i am "the wife", and i should allow my husband to take care of all major decisions. that i had no right to spend money that was supposed to be "ours", and that because i wasn't working, the only thing i should do is maintain the household. i had no input, and was treated to an array of explosive and abusive remarks if i asked about my husbands whereabouts after work, how money was spent etc.

this experience was created by a legacy of teaching, in example and word, that is not Christ-like in any way and is the result of generations of a simple precedent set: women do not deserve the same rights as me. an implicit, subconscious message that is acted out far more than verbalized.

the abuses i dealt with came from a young angry and confused man who had never seen a healthy marriage of two Christian individuals... and i don't repeat this story to blacken his image, but to say that i have some strong feelings as to why it is important to continue reminding women of their worth. i believe that young men need to see their mothers own who they are, and to be respected and valued as individuals by their mates.

my prompting:

and desire is to explain my stance. i hope it is a stance of many other women with similar backgrounds to mine - those who were raised in a perceived "conservative Christian" atmosphere - and that others might join in the conversation.

so here it is. i believe that feminism is something that can and ought to be embraced by women from all walks. that it is a movement that should be open to all persuasions in the political, religious and lifestyle spectrums. until it is just that, we as women have not won our cause to create a world that is fair and equal for all.

as a Christian, while on this world i have an obligation to stand up for those who have no voice and to protect the sanctity of life around me. i cannot ignore an injustice that affects me so directly.

as the second wave coined it: the personal is political. and for me it intersects with this: the spiritual is personal. i cannot see how the son of God could teach anything that would encourage us to view half of the world as secondary in any way.

this is my start, there will be more. in the meantime, books:

the feminine mystique - betty friedan

faith and feminism: a holy alliance - helen lakelly hunt, Ph.D.