Processing My Feelings - Part 1

"My life is a series of comings and goings... and I'm not sure how I feel about that" I wrote to my older sister recently.

Rob's job is weird. We have basically signed up to be in-country missionaries and thus we are subject to move a lot. But while we are living in a given place we must love the people and community with all our might or else it's pointless; or else, why are we there? So we open our hearts to many and some open their hearts to us and then.... we leave.

Pain.

Pain for us. Pain for them.

Now, I believe in the system we're in and here's why: Rob and I feel that we are sent by God to "make straight the path" to him (as the bible speaks of). In other words, we feel that our gifts and talents help us to tell of a God who is living, active, creative, and not a stale dictating figure head. And in light of that how unique and loved each of them are. We strive to create a longing in people's hearts to seek God themselves and not be dependant on their spiritual leaders. So, the reason I think that the Methodist system (as painful as it can seem) works is because I think there is the potential for people to get comfortable if a pastor stays too long. And for the pastor to get comfortable too. Have you ever heard some say they need "fresh eyes" on something? Same thing here. I feel that every church Rob has served in we have been there to do something specific and then it's time to move on and let the next person come in and lead in the next specific step God is telling them that particular church needs.

Soooo... we come... and we love fiercely... and then we are torn away...

It's so hard.

I remember 3 years ago driving my mini van to a home that I had never seen before in a state I had never lived in before. My husband was on the same voyage driving a U-Haul truck with all of our possessions and I was in the van with a 18 month old little boy, a 4 week old little girl, the dog, and our plants. As I approached the "Freeland" exit on route 83s in Maryland I put on my blinker and took a deep breath and whispered "Here goes nothin".

The first week my son got sick and I remember the sinking feeling of not knowing whether to take a right or a left out of my drive way to try to get him to a hospital.

I remember that week my frazzled husband kicking me and the kids out of the house so he could think about his sermon (the first he would give to his new churches) and us ending up at the Amish Market (me sobbing... and then befriended by a very kind woman who introduced me to her daughter who also had small children so that I would have a friend...)

I remember asking my husband if we could go home. It was so different for me being away from my ultra large family... with a new baby... and a toddler... and during that first year and a half God kept bringing a song by Sara Groves to mind:

"I've been painting pictures of Egypt
leaving out what it lacked
The future feels so hard and I wanna go back.

But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
Those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned."

So we stayed. I felt like Maryland was my "dessert" but we stayed and pressed on.

I remember longing for female friends and being lonely. I remember longing for biblical teaching from someone other than my husband. Longing for a bible study that I could go to and not be the pastor's wife. And then one day at the park in Shrewsbury PA a woman there with her kids invited me to the women's bible study at the Hunt Valley Church which proved to be sooooooo crucial through my stay in MD! (Love you girls! And you too Frank! :) Talk about acceptance, encouragement, and even a good butt kicking now and then (mostly by Melanie and Dawn! :)

I remember my husband asking the congregations at Mt. Zion and Bentley "what can you do for the Lord at this church" and after praying about it, I nervously got up in front of the churches and played guitar (still not brave enough to sing until about 6 months after that). And in a sense, the band I was in (3:16) was formed due to that progression...

I remember disagreeing with a decision the youth ministry team had made, complaining about it, and being challenged by Scott to come join the team - come to the meetings, come to Youth Unplugged on Sunday Nights and THEN offer my input. And I did and it's been one of the most joyful things in my entire life. (You are the best YU kids!)

So much happened in 3 years down in MD.... so many (good) changes in me. Definite growing pains... spiritual and emotion stretch marks...

I don't think you can go through life unchanged by those you come in contact with. I see it like this: Imagine we all start off as a pillar of a solid color. I am a pillar of, lets say, red. And in the process of knowing and loving others and them knowing and loving me we brush up again each other and when we part there are traces of their color on me and traces of my color on them... can you see it? And I think that's a beautiful thing...... If we are all made in God's image then I want to know you because to know you is to know God. Do you understand what I am trying to say?

So, in closing (for now) I am grieving the thought of not being able to see my MD crew: souls that I have brushed up against. But I am so thankful that I have been allowed to brush up against them and I hope they know that traces of their individual colors will always swirl through my soul.

I love you. - Christian

No energy to post
stop
Must pack truck
stop
No computer from now on
stop
Will post again after July 6th
stop

Packing, Packing & More Packing!

I need a break from packing so I'm blogging/venting. We packed our dishes yesterday and switched to paper goods. Most of our clothes are packed as well as our other belongings. We're tripping over boxes and at Walmart almost daily for one thing or another because after June 23rd we'll be homeless/nomadic until the next parsonage opens up on July 6th. We will be camping various places durring those few weeks and our stuff will be in storage so we keep remembering things we'll need.

The kids have been "helping" us pack. I'm glad they want to help but it takes 3x as long to pack anything and about 5 minutes to label a box that would normally take about 10 seconds.

I am depressed and excited about the move all at once.... maybe I'll collect my feelings and blog about that before we pull out of town...

Anyway... a couple cute photos from nap time one day last week:

I walked in to check on our daughter at nap time just to find this. She had stolen things from the bathroom (which is right across the hall from her door) and made this mess. When I walked into the room she said "Mommy, I am sooo willy, willy, sorry." (I actually thought it was kinda funny... it reminded me of my niece who used to do that all the time when she was little.)I cleaned her up and changed her bedding and then walked in to check on our son and (no kidding) this is how I found him. Naked except for this dress vest and Mickey in it. That was an interesting day. One of those days you don't finish cleaning up the last mess before they were making another one.

Ok, well, back to packing. I'll probably blog once more before our move and then I won't be near a computer until after July 6th. But then I will up date everyone on our travels and move.

She Turned Three

Today my daughter turned three years old. I must admit it was a little hard for me. See, Rob and I decided about a year ago that we were done having kids (for many personal reasons) and so today, as many days, I stared at my "baby" and noticed all the ways that she is no longer a baby. I even came up behind her, hugged her and said "Oh, I can't believe my baby is 3 years old!" to which she slowly turned her head toward me, rolled her eyes, and said "Mom, what are you doing dare (there)?" clearly annoyed by her dear old Mom.

It hits me even harder this birthday because we are moving in one week and when we moved down here she was 4 weeks old. I remember thinking to myself about how she'd be 3 when we moved back and I remember imagining what she'd be like and look like... and now it's upon me. She's 3. Just like that.

But anyway, she had a great day - except when one of the church congregations sang happy birthday to her and she cried - she hates a fuss on her birthday. She didn't want a party, she didn't want a lot of attention and the food she asked for as her special meal was (and I quote) "Pasta with salt. No budda (butter)." So that's what I made for dinner and she LOVED it even turning to me once and making the M-M-good sound.

Instead of a cake she wanted chocolate pie and mickey mouse plates.

Rob's Mom and step sister got her a bunch of new clothes so she put on a new "alphabet", as she says, every hour or so. She played in her room with her new pink bunny from my parents - pretending it was her baby. And at the end of the day we read some new books she had received.

She thanked Rob and I for her birthday, like, 6 times through out the day. She just so sweet and wants her birthday celebrated simply. She's growing up so fast. So fast.

How He Describes Us...

Our son's preschool teacher compiled a year book of sorts with printed interviews from each child about themselves and as you can imagine it is hysterical. This was our son's:

"I am 4 years old. There are four people in my family. My Mom has lots of jobs. She fixes things when they are broken, takes care of her kids and cuddles me when I am sad. My Daddy studies his bible and writes. When he is finished doing that he likes to watch television and rest. At home I like to draw and play with my toys. I don't like it when my Mommy spanks me and when my sister bugs me. My favorite things to do at school are to play with my friends and build with the blocks. I don't like to eat goldfish at school. My favorite food to eat is roast beef and potatoes. When I grow up I want to be a firefighter or a doctor."

I think he was pretty darn accurate! :)

Have a great day everyone!

Going Away Party

Our daughter decided that clothing was overrated.

The churches gave the kids these guitars as a going away gift (which they LOVE!!)

Short video clip of our set.

"What's Your Face Ritual?"

Some friends of mine got me a gift card to a spa as a going away present and yesterday was my appointment. I went in for the Mini Escape package which included a 30 min. massage, pedicure and facial. (All felt great. Thank you girls!) But while getting my facial the woman performing it asked "What's your face ritual?"

"What?" I asked.

"Your face ritual. What is it?" she repeated. All I could think of was a bunch of men in loin cloths dancing around my face, chanting...

She saw I was clueless so she tried to explain "I mean what do you do to your face every day?"

"Oh, nothing" I said.

"Nothing?!" she exclaimed. "Not, like, nothing-nothing, right." she quizzed. "I mean you wash and moisturize right?"

"No" I said. "I mean sometimes I wash it quick in the shower..."

(Silence.)

"Well you don't want to look 50 when your 40 do you?" she asked to which I shrugged and thought to myself "Ah whatever... that wouldn't bother me".

So she went on to give me a whole lecture about how if I keep up with this neglect I might get wrinkles, etc.

I went home laughing, told Rob about it, and we got talking. The whole "You don't want to look 50 when your 40" thing is an interesting statement because, think about it. What she was really saying is that "you don't want to look your age do you?" And my response is what would be so bad about that?

When did we decide that aging was so horrible? We fight against things like "laugh lines". Why would I want to hide something I gained because I have laughed so many times in life that it has left a permanent mark?! I have literally had so many joyful moments that my face is forever changed. That's awesome! I don't want to hide that!

Don't you want to get older and wiser? I do. You are beautiful because of your scars and winkles. They are a testament to what you have been through in life. The saying isn't "I avoided the storm" it's "I weathered the storm". It makes me think of teak furniture. It starts as this pretty lush wood color the first year or so that it sits out but then it turns an ashy grey color but it NEVER looses it's strength. It's solid as a rock year after year through bright sunny days and long winter storms. I want to be like a piece of teak furniture: grey but solid as a rock.

I wrote a poem about two years ago that I'd like to share with you. It's titled "My Breasts" and it's not a crude poem by any means, just an honest dialog about aging (but obviously if you're uncomfortable with the title than you'll probably be uncomfortable with the poem).

In closing, this women was VERY nice but I did feel saddened by her point of view. Please don't be afraid of aging. Embrace it! It's made you who you are!


My Breasts
By Christian Abell
(July 9, 2006)

My breasts are sagging. They hang pretty low…
Gone are the days of perky fullness with rosy-pink nipples.
No, now they droop ever lower and are colored in more of a brown shade with traces of light purple from stretch marks.


But this does not bother me. I wear them as a badge of honor.

Sure, sometimes it feels like I have to practically roll them up just to cram them into my bra cups.
And sure, when I lay on my back no longer are there two glorious peaks but more like a couple of rolling hills (rolling almost completely under my armpits!)


But this does not bother me. I wear them as a badge of honor.


What was once very firm to the touch now sort of just squishes… And what was once new and fresh and vibrant now seems, in a way, old and spent.
I’d be lying to say that I’ve never caught a glance of myself, naked, in the mirror and sighed a little… Or at times have felt slight twinges of self-consciousness…


But in the end, this really does not bother me. I wear my breasts as a badge of honor. For they represent something wonderful.


They represent my journey as a woman, for I am now a mother.
They sag because they once swelled with milk for my little ones, so dear.
To the outside world they seem inadequate and in need of fixing…
But they are mine. They are who I am. And I am comfortable with them.
I am a much wiser woman than I was when they were perky and I wouldn’t want to go back.


I wear them as badge of honor for they represent something wonderful.
All of my dreams came true the day my breasts began to sag.

Two Big Events

Rob was officially commissioned by the United Methodist Church on Friday night (May 30th) in Scranton, PA. He went forward at a large church service during our Annual Conference (with two other individuals being commissioned). He was told ahead of time to bring along two or three people to take part in the service by robing, tying a braided cord around him, and then pouring water from one pitcher to another (all symbolic of-course but of what I'm not sure... if you know me at all you know that I think all of this kinda stuff is not neccessary but that's another topic for another day...). So He picked our children to do the robing and tying and me to do the water. Here are some pictures although I was not permitted to use my flash so they are blurry. This is our daughter chewing on Daddy's "Sacred" Robe... ...and then her realizing she'd been caught! And our son with the rope - and I will tell you that he practiced tying my arms together many times during the beginning of the service so that he would get it right when it came time for him to tie it around Daddy's waist. He was very serious about the whole thing. They both did a great job. Then the bishop washed their feet and prayed over each person being commissioned. Some people told us (in the receiving line at the end of the service) that they teared up when the kids did their part... It was very cute.

So, that was Friday and then Sunday was another very important day for our little family - our son's preschool graduation!!

(This is a girl in his class that he's sweet-on... they're very cute together...)

Here is a video clip - mostly for his Grandparents to view - but you can too if you like :)